Tough Girl
by idle hands 418
Summary: My name is Rosaline Ophelia Poole. Rose if it's all the same to you. Well, here's a little tale about my life with my almost older brothers John, Paul, George and Ritchie. I hope you'll stick around to hear my story. It's a little long, so let's begin.
1. Chapter 1

"Rose!"

I looked up from my camera to face one of my best friends.

"Yes, my dearest Johnny boy?" I replied sweetly. He stared at me with enraged eyes.

"What the hell have you done to my picture of Brigitte?" He screamed. I smirked. I always thought his and the boys' little infatuation with her was revolting.

"I thought she could use a slight makeover." In actuality, the makeover was me drawing a Groucho Marx mustache, a unibrow, and very unnecessary body hair. I'm a pretty good artist and this really showed off my skills. "Looks a great deal better if you ask me." I grabbed my copy of _A Tree Grow In Brooklyn_ as he was about to yell again, but our front door opened.

"Rose!" Three angry voices yelled. I turned to see my other three friends Paul, George and Ringo glaring furiously at me. I gave their posters a few upgrades as well. Guess they didn't appreciate my gift too much either.

This is my life. Hi. Welcome to my tale. My name's Rosaline Ophelia Poole. I prefer Rose, if it's all the same to you. I've lived with John Lennon for as long as I can remember. John, Paul, George, and Ringo are my best friends and surrogate older brothers, if you will. I'm younger than George which makes me the "helpless little sister" of us all. Unfortunately for them, I'm a little too annoying and little sister-ish for their taste. Too many practical jokes and too little cleaning, they think. I am a pretty good cook, so I like to believe that makes up for it a little.

"What?" I asked innocently. "Me and Bridge were only havin' a bit of fun, that's all!"

"Bloody hell, Rose! Why can't you be little more, oh I dunno, civilized?" John asked. I rolled my eyes. I was everything _but_civilized in his eyes. I was more of a tomboy than a lady most girls were at my age. Give me a break, will you? I hate the way girls are and dress these days. I grew up with John since before I could walk, and I rolled with the guys as I got older. Sure, I had my girlfriends, but I could hang with the rough of them.

My best girl friends, their names are Colleen and Violet. Violet and I became friends in preschool because we both had the weirdest, most unusual names in the class. Colleen joined our odd name circle in grade two, and we've all been mates ever since. They're currently in Vienna, Austria. Violet was modeling and exploring her painting and sculpting talents. She was actually quite good; I don't know why she needed someone to tell her. Colleen is modeling and designing some fashions while playing part time in a band. So basically, they both left me here alone. Isn't my selfishness lovely?

"It doesn't just work like that all the time. But, I'm sorry, okay? Anything I could do to make it up for you?" Paul raised his eyebrows.

"_Weeeell-_," he leered before John cuffed him on the back of the head.

"You watch yourself, McCartney." He growled. George and Ringo scowled at me.

"I'll make you all food," I sighed. Their eyes brightened and I was attacked with hugs and kisses. "Alright, alright! Sod off, you lot! Go do something useful, will you?" after another kiss on the cheek from each, the boys hopped into the living room where the television began to blare some daft American show the boys always seemed to watch. While I have a break from them, why don't I tell you a bit about myself?

I was born on the fourteenth of April. My parents were young when they had me. My mother was thirteen and my father was sixteen. They were kids, too poor and too unprepared for a baby. My mother's mother sent me to live with one of her closest friend, John's aunt Mimi, when I was two. They've always been in my life and they still are, but Mimi was my primary caretaker. Even though they were you when they had me, Mum and Dad stayed in love and stayed together. They had two more kids when I was seven and when I turned ten. Liam and Juliette. Liam's ten and Juliette is eight. I don't see them very often because they all decided to move to France when I started high school.

Any road, I'm 19, about 5'4", with thick black hair that is basically messy ringlets and long cowlicks. It was usually in a ponytail or an unkempt bun. My nose was button-ish on my round, child-like face. My best feature would have to be my eyes. They're violet blue, just like Elizabeth Taylor's. I barely wear dresses like my girlfriends. I'll occasionally wear skirts that are less than appropriate for society, but usually, I'll borrow George's leather pants and jeans. I only have one pair of heels and one dress. The only time I wore them was Mum and Mimi forced the four of us to prom, just before we met Ringo. Worst day of my life, I can tell you. The only jewelry I wear is a silver necklace with a music note on it from the boys and a jade green bracelet from my siblings. Like I said before, I hate the way girls dress.

And we're back. I fired the boys up some chips and made them wait until they cooled to eat them.

"Oh, be a mate, Rose! Let us eat!" Ringo pleaded.

"Life is not a basket of every flavored beans, Richard. Sometimes, you can't get what you want." I scolded and looked at my watch. I was going to surprise my boyfriend for his birthday at half one. "Now, be _careful_. They're hot. I don't want any grief from the likes of you." I kissed them each on the cheek. "See you lot in a bit." Paul, George and Ringo mumbled goodbye through their mouthfuls of food but John looked at me.

"Aye, where're yeh headed?" He interrogated.

"Dan's place."

His face clouded over. "I hate that bloke. You're not going."

"Like hell I'm not!" I protested. John utterly despised my boyfriend. Dan, he's kind of sick, you see? He'll be nice one minute and then flip out. He hit me a few times before and once or twice threatened me while John was around. I honestly needed Paul, George and Ringo to help me pull John off of Dan. I mean, it's not like I can't hold my own.

He put his fork down. "Rose, no."

"John, is your saying no really gonna stop me? I mean, really." I said. He contemplated this and gave in.

You'd better be careful out there in Blackpool. I don't wanna go to the big house for killin' anybody that hurts you, hear?"

"I got it." They said goodbye once more.

"Be back before it gets dark out or I'll cripple ya!" I head John call out the door as I ran out. I waved him off behind me and skidded up to the bus stop as the vehicle pulled up. I was headed for Blackpool!


	2. Chapter 2

I stepped off the bus and watched little kids run by me. I whistled _My Bonnie_ as I walked to Dan's house. We'd been dating for about two years and the boys were most certainly less than pleased. Some baby teddy boys whistled and hooted at me as I walked down the street. Well, what can you do?

I went into a butcher shop to grab his favorite sandwich and paid a dime for two Cokes. For a present, I got him a box of his favorite (and most expensive) chocolates and a signed Chuck Berry record! It took me months to save up for it, but it would be worth it.

As I hopped up the stairs to his flat, I noted a car I'd never seen before. Oh well. The door was unlocked when I got to it, and when I opened it, I yelled a loud "Happy birthday!"

A slightly rumpled and flushed blonde was staring at me. Obvious, she'd already given Dan his birthday gift. I couldn't believe my eyes as they stung with unshed tears. And I don't cry. I _never_ cry. Dan quickly stood up from the couch as the girl slipped past me and left the building.

"Rose, it's not what it looks like," Dan slurred. He began to walk toward me, setting a bottle of scotch on the floor and pulling his pants on over his boxers.

"I don't really think there's another way to explain what you were doing, Dan." I said calmly. My voice betrayed me and began to shake. "I hope you have a lovely birthday." I sneered sarcastically, throwing everything in my hands around the room. And because of that damned Poole temper, his roast beef sandwich was now splattered on his bare chest, the chocolates scattered on his old threadbare rug and the Coke bottles broken and spilled across the wall and floors.

"Rosie, love..."

"Don't call me that!" I screamed. "Have a pleasant fucking life!" I turned to run out of his flat, but he grabbed me tightly around the wrists with one hand, his fingers overlapping.

"Rose! Don't walk away from me," he growled.

"Let go of me, Dan. Go get your bimbo!" I sneered. He hit me in the stomach with his free hand. I doubled over and tried to keep from crying out. He threw me onto his mattress that lay on the floor and began to quickly take my clothes off. I didn't know who this man was. My Dan would never hurt me. Who is this? "What are you doing?" I cried while trying to get out of his clutches.

"Well, since I didn't like the birthday presents you got me, I'm gonna take this one instead." I could smell the liquor on his breath on my face. My eyes widened as he started to peel off my drainpipe trousers. As I gasped and started screaming, his rubbery, clumsy lips crashed down on mine. He was too strong. Tears streamed uncontrollably out of my eyes as he took everything I had left. Pain wracked my body to the point where I couldn't breathe.

After what seemed like, days, weeks, months, years, centuries, he rolled off of me and grabbed his alcohol. He ran his huge, disgusting hands down the side of my small, shivering body.

"Best birthday gift I could think of." He grabbed my wrist and nearly crushed it. "Don't tell your precious little Johnny wither. If you tell _anybody_, I swear I'll fuckin' kill you," he seethed. Eventually, he fell asleep and I got dressed as fast as I could, though it seemed as though every part of my body was on fire.

I ran out of his apartment in total pain and went as quick as my legs would take me.

I couldn't think straight. I was blinded with tears and anger and hurt and pain. I went past the Ferris wheel, past the carousal, through the park and to the industry district where my bus stop was. I collapsed onto the bench in agony and sat there for hours, just trying not to be sick. I counted about twelve buses stop for me and about ninety six people stare as I didn't climb aboard.

As it began to get dark, I knew I had to get home sometime. The next bus that rolled by happened to be going to Linkstor Road, not too far from the house. I sat curled up and stared out the window. I felt like such a moron. Could I just chalk it up to his sickness? The rage of the moment? Love?

I got off the bus and dragged myself the three blocks home. If I went through the front door, John would see me crying. I could never have that. The spare key to the back door that led to the kitchen was in the gutter. I cursed quietly as the less frequently used door creaked loudly.

"Rose!' John howled. "Rosaline! You explain to me where the fuck you've been for twelve bloody hours!" I didn't realize it was already half past twelve in the morning as John stomped into the kitchen. "Are you hearing me? I said…wait. What's wrong?"

"John," I choked out.

He tried to pull me into a hug and I winced away from him. He looked confused and brushed my hair back. "Rosie cakes, what's the matter?" I sobbed and lifted my shirt to show him where a big ugly bruise was beginning to form. His fists clenched and his face flooded with rage. "Why are your clothes ripped?" I started breathing faster and the breaths became shallower. "Rose. What. Happened."

"Dan," I said as I wiped tears away. "He was with someone else, and I caught them. He…I tried to leave but he took me and hit me and he…he…he..." John shook his head back and forth rapidly.

"No," he said. "Rose, don't tell me that. Don't tell me he did that to you!" He screamed and threw a plate sitting in the sink at the wall. Soapy water dripped from the paint and pooled on the floor.

"John, stop."

"Rosie, I'll kill him. I swear, I'll actually kill him. You gotta tell somebody, Rose. We'll call the police, do something please!"

"Oh, John, no!" I wept. "He'll kill me! He said it! He'll kill me!"

"Oh, _he'll _kill _you_, will he?"

"Please!" I howled. I fell into his waiting, warm arms as my knees gave out and I sobbed as hard as my body would let me. I thought Dan loved me and I knew I loved him. What have I done wrong?

* * *

I woke up to Paul griping about all the ways he was going to castrate Dan. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. It was a foreign feeling for them to be raw and sore. Quite a drag, really. I ran a hand over my camera, then through my tangled hair. Cor, I was sure sore.

As I walked down the hallway to the kitchen I yawned and groaned. Single, taken, happy, hurt or betrayed, I was not a morning person.

Conversation ceased when I walked in and the two boys stared at me with pity in their eyes. I sniffed and rolled my shoulders.

"Don't gimme that bloody look. I'm alright." I wiped my eyes. "Breakfast?" I walked to the stove before the tears started to fall. Cor, I'm crying twice within twenty four hours? I might as well trade my leather for lace.

"Rose." Paul called. "Rose?" I didn't turn around. They couldn't see me cry. John slammed his hand on the table.

"Rosaline Ophelia Poole, turn around!" he roared.

"What?" I sobbed, finally spinning to let them see me crying. "This what you want? You wanna see me crying? I'm fine! He didn't hurt me!" Paul jumped up.

"He fuckin' hit you! What do you mean he didn't hurt you?" he screamed. "Give me one reason we shouldn't walk to Blackpool and kick his arse right now?"

"Because it doesn't matter!" I wailed. John rolled his eyes.

"Oh, it doesn't matter, does it? Rose, why don't you tell him what else your dearest Dan did?"

"John, stop." I whimpered. He threw his head back and laughed.

"I guess I'll just tell him!"

"John, please no!"

Paul looked between us. "Would somebody just tell me?"

"John, please d-,"

"He fuckin' shagged her, Paul. Didn't give a fuck if she wanted it either!" His voice cracked as he turned to look at me. "Rose, goddammit, I'm supposed to protect you! I told you not to-," He quickly turned away from us. How could I be so stupid? I hurt the people I loved with my stupid decisions. The guilt was overwhelming.

My legs gave out and I fell to the ground loudly. Paul and John rushed over and wrapped their arms around me. I don't think I could've stopped crying if I wanted to.


	3. Chapter 3

Hi everyone! Sorry it took so long to update. I'll probably have my other story updated by the end of the week-ish. Enjoy :)

* * *

Weeks had gone by and I had grown increasingly depressed. Mimi came to check on me occasionally, promising to do something to make me better.

On bad days, I didn't usually get out of bed or eat. Good days were bad days. I only got out of bed to sit on the porch, have a drink, have a smoke and crawl back into bed. George came to the house every day. Even if I didn't talk to him, he would sit with me, hold my hand and tell me about what's happening with the people our age. Apparently, popular girl (cough-whore-cough) named Trudy who hated me and wanted to date John when we were in high school is now pregnant with twins. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

Suddenly, I heard a loud expletive and the sound of flesh hitting flesh. Hard. George jumped up and ran out. For some reason, I found the strength to follow him. When I walked to the front door I almost choked. Ringo trying to get John off of Dan and Paul was holding George back. Ringo finally got John off of Dan when Dan threatened him with the police.

"You fuckin' _cunt_," he growled. "You lay one _finger _on my Rose and I'll merk you. You hear me? I'll kill you."

"Seemed like the little whore was enjoying it when it happened," Dan smirked. John and George tried to lunge forward out of his friends' arms.

"Fuck you!" Paul spat, still trying to hold George back.

"Let me go. Just lemme go!" John screamed. Dan pulled his arm back and hit John in the face. I automatically took a step toward him but Ringo, still holding tight to John, stepped in front of me and kept me from getting close to Dan. I felt so useless, weak, insignificant.

At this point, John was steaming mad and I was crying hard. Dan stalked over to me, and before Ritchie could stop him, he slapped me with incredible force. I could feel the skin break and bleed as I fell to the ground. I heard John gasp when my skull cracked against the ground.

"I told you to keep yer bloody mouth shut," he growled.

"Run like hell!" John roared as he ripped out Ringo's arms. George was right behind him and they tackled Dan away from me. Ringo wrapped his arms around me, rocking me slowly as Paul called the police. I felt like such a little girl. Was this what I had done? Only cause people pain?

_Damn, I'm pathetic. _I thought as I began to black out.

* * *

A few minutes later, I came around as a paramedic shined a flashlight in my eyes. I watched out of my peripheral when Dan left the house. John, Paul and Ringo left a few hours ago to go do something they wouldn't tell me. Meanwhile, George and I were in the kitchen. I sat on the counter while George cleaned off my cheek.

"Ouch," I winced. He looked at me with his mysterious brown eyes.

"Sorry, love," he apologized. I sniffed and let him push my hair from my eyes and lift me off the counter.

"Where'd the others go?" I asked. He hid a smile and looked down at me – he was really rather handsome when you get right down to it.

"Not sure. I guess we'll both be surprised."

"Liar."

He stared at me with amused eyes. "Would I ever lie to you, Rosie-Pie?" I smirked.

"Oh, I'm sure you would never." The front door creaked open and I heard voices I hadn't heard in a while.

"Rose!" John called. "You got company!" George took my hand. I looked down at our hands intertwined and smiled awkwardly and we walked to the front room; I almost cried with happiness. I saw some of the most important people in my life. My parents. My mother and father held hands and talked to John while Paul and Ringo came from outside with my little siblings. Cor, I've missed them so much. I barely noticed when John gave George a dirty look. Liam and Juliette ran to me and hugged me tightly.

"Rosie!" they cheered. I faked a smile and held them close. I was almost angry at John for having them over. How could I tell my family that I was too weak to function without them?

"Hi you two!" Juliette looked up at me.

"Rosie, you're gonna teach me to take pictures this time right? You promised!"

"Yeah, maybe we'll go to Blackp-,"

"Rose," John seethed. I mashed my lips together.

"Right. Maybe downtown. We'll figure something out, okay?" I offered my pinky and she took it with a grin.

"Okay!" she said. My mom cleared her throat.

"Darlings, why don't you ask the boys if you all could play a game?" she hinted. Paul and George smiled and led them to the kitchen. John patted my head and followed them. I finally faced my parents and fell into their arms, crying more than I had in the past few days.

My parents are really tall. It left me to wonder where I got my height from. Me mum's about five foot nine and Dad's almost six and a half feet. Even my little brother was beginning to get to my height.

Mum's Austrian, her name's Annaliese, or just Anna. Her and me grandmum moved to Britain when Mum was three or four. Mum's hair is black like mine but her eyes are dark green. Her Queen's accent is accented slightly with Austrian and French, but it makes her all the more beautiful. When I hugged her, her scent of daisies and lavender was as strong as ever. Mum's usually quiet, but when she talks, it's probably a good idea to listen to her. She taught Colleen, Violet and me how to take pictures and draw. She and Violet tried to teach me how to paint, too. Mine just came out like a child's picture while their paintings were museum worthy. My mum is also a really good story teller; she gave me my love of reading.

Me father Vincent, he's French. He's 34 but looks not a day past 25. His voice is deep, clear and boisterous, with a strong Parisian undertone. We share the same violet blue eyes, but his hair is light brown. He's real tall, real strong too. My daddy was always my protector. He would clean up my scraped knees while my mother would just tell me how to not let it happen again. Dad taught me to ride my first bike, kick my first football, and skate in my first skates. He told me jokes and played games and made me believe we were a normal family. When I was little, we would go on walks until the sun went down and he would teach me the constellations.

My parents also didn't forget about me when they had more kids. In fact, my mother pleaded and begged for me to come to Paris with them, but I refused and stayed with John. Later, my father told me she was suffering from a type depression of missing me so much. It made me feel guilty, but I was technically only a train ride away.

I shook out of my thoughts when I felt my mother's teardrops on my head. I looked up at her and she wiped her eyes on my father's shoulder. My father kissed my temple.

"She missed you a lot, love," he whispered in my ear. "We all did, but her especially." My mother sniffed and smiled at me.

"I'm sorry, dearest. Let's sit down; John said you have something to tell us." We sat on the couch and my mother held my hand so tight her knuckles turned white. My dad undid her hand from mine and patted it gently. "Right. So what is it, love? Hurry now, we're only here for today." I have to stall. They can't know about this. They'll fall to pieces.

"Um, nothing of any major significance. Why don't you come in the kitchen? I was just making lunch," I lied nervously. Mum narrowed her eyes at me. I have this weird feeling she could see right through my fibs.

"I'll help you," she said tightly. Dad looked between us quickly. "Vincent, why don't you take the kids to the park round the way? Rose and I have to have a little girl time." My dad nodded and called for Liam and Juliette. Mum and I walked into the kitchen. We could smell the smoke from the boys wafting in from the back.

"Spaghetti still Liam's favorite?"

"Mhm."

I began getting ingredients out for spaghetti and meatballs while Mum examined my spotless kitchen.

"Kitchen's neat as a new pin," she mused while setting water to boil. George pounded on the screen door.

"Anna, don't cook! You're our guest!" he shouted. The boys agreed loudly.

"Yeah!" yelled John. "Let Rose cook! Have a seat!"

She pursed her lips. "Who do you think taught her to cook?"

"I believe that was Mimi."

"Why don't you all see if you can grab something to drink?" she suggested while rolling her eyes playfully.

"Gotcha." The guys put on their jackets and left .I watched them walk into the distance while the water came to a rolling boil. My mother cleared her throat.

"So when are you gonna tell me what's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothin's wrong," I murmured. She handed me the box of spaghetti and leaned on the wall next to me.

"Won't you tell your mummy?" she begged with big eyes. "I hate to see you so upset, baby."

"You don't wanna hear it," I said, my shaky voice getting gradually higher. She took my hand.

"_Liebling_, of course I want to know."

"Mum, you're _really _not gonna wanna hear it."

"Rose, I-,"

"Fine. You wanna know what happened?" I asked calmly. She nodded eagerly. I pulled my hand out of hers viciously. Her eye brows furrowed as I hacked the meat apart and started mixing the pieces in a bowl of seasoning. I shook the spaghetti out of its box. "My boyfriend hit me. Then he raped me."

I cracked the spaghetti over the pot as if I was snapping Dan's neck.

* * *

My mum and I agreed not to tell me father what had happened until she and the rest of my family got back the France. Mum was real torn up about what I'd told her. I had to sit her down while I told her the whole story. She blubbered recklessly while I shaped and fried meatballs.

"Sweetheart," she wept. "This is why I wanted you to come with us so bad. We could protect you from things like this! He can come back anytime!"

"It's over and done with now, Mum."

"But, love, the emotional toll must be-,"

"It's done," I stated. I sighed as her face crumpled sadly. "I'll try and visit more often."

"Please, Rose, I-," The front door burst open and my mother wiped her eyes before my father could see her crying. She greeted each member of my family with a kiss. "How was the park?" she asked Juliette. Liam peered over the stove at what I was cooking. He smiled up at me.

"Yes!" he cheered.

"It was fun," Juliette said at the same time. Soon, the boys returned with several bottles of Coke, a carton of ciggies and two candy bars for the kids. Mum forbade them from eating them until after lunch.

We all sat at the table, laughed, talked and teased each other. It almost felt normal for a moment. Suddenly, Dan's words ran through my head.

_If you tell anybody, I swear I'll fuckin' kill you._

I dropped my fork loudly and gasped. Everyone turned to look at me.

"Thought I saw a spider," I laughed nervously. Juliette looked around nervously. "It was just nothing." They slowly went back to their respective conversations. John was the only one who kept looking at me. His eyes asked if I was alright. I shook my head.

Several hours later, I was showing Juliette the basics of photography and John was letting Liam strum on his mum's old ukelele. Paul, George and Ringo had already left to go home which was what my dad announced it was time to do. Liam and Juliette sighed and whined, but eventually obeyed him. Jules hugged me.

"I love you, Rosie. I'll see you later, right?" she asked.

"Right. Next time I'll come see you and we can take pictures by the Eiffel Tower!"

"Yes!" she hollered. I laughed and opened my arms to Liam.

"My little brother isn't too cool for hugs, is he?"

"Course not!" he protested. He crashed into my arms and embraced me. "I'm gonna miss you."

"Hey, don't say that. If you ever need me, just call me up and I'll be there quicker than you could sing the alphabet."

"Promise?" They both offered their pinkies to me.

"Promise," I smiled, shaking both of them. They ran to say goodbye to John while I went to give my parents a hug. They wrapped me up tightly. I got a kiss on the head from each of them.

"You be careful, _mon Cherie_," my dad murmured into my hair.

"We love you very much, Rosaline. There's always room for you at the house. Always," my mother hinted.

"I know. Thanks," I sighed. They hugged me one more time. "Call me when you get in?"

"Of course," Dad answered. "We'll see you later, John!" John called out a sleepy goodbye from the couch.

"Bye, honey," Mum smiled.

"Bye, everyone." They waved once more and took off down the road. I watched them until they disappeared around the corner and I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding. I sure can't wait for the phone call from Dad when Mum finally tells him. I wandered into the living room where the television was now blaring noise from a cartoon. John wasn't even watching it. He was sleeping.

I picked up a random book from the coffee table, one I put there so that when people come over, they'll think we're worldly and sophisticated and all that rubbish. I plopped down next to John on the couch which made him wake up abruptly. He sniffed and rubbed his eyes.

"You're alright?" he yawned.

"Yep." I looked down at the pages and pretended to read them. He nudged me, seeing right through my obvious lie, but I ignored him. He pulled the book out of my hands. I looked up furiously to meet his calm eyes that were secretly deluged with concern. I dropped my head and shook it. He wrapped an arm around me and I curled up next to him. I told him about what'd happened at dinner and I felt him tense up.

"Why don't you ever just listen to me? He can come back whenever he fancies," he whispered tiredly. I leaned on his chest and let him pull me closer.

"He won't."

"How do you know? God, I had a bad feelin' about that day, Rose, and when you came home crying, you broke my bloody heart."

"Oh, John."

"I know," he sighed. "I know."


	4. Chapter 4

Okay, here's an update! I'm super busy studying for finals so this may be the last for about a week or two. Wish me luck and enjoy! :)

* * *

"_I'll fuckin' kill you," Dan growled as he towered over me. I screamed but no sound came out. No matter how hard I tried, my voice came out no louder than a whisper. "Stop!" I tried to get out of his arms as he shook me by the shoulders. Finally my voice worked._

"Rose!" John screamed. I opened my eyes quickly. Before I saw his face, I saw Dan's. The very pit of my stomach was filled with fear. I pushed myself away from his and scrambled to the corner of my bed where he must have carried me after I fell asleep on the couch. He wore a hurt expression as he reached for me. I couldn't think straight. He was as frightening to me as a puppy, but coming out of this dream, he was a serial killer.

"Dan, get away from me! Don't hurt me!" I shrieked. He froze and his face turned from hurt to confused to angry.

"You really think I would hurt you? Ever? Let alone like that fucker did!" he shouted. "Rose, you need some fuckin' help. This? All this? It's shit! I can't handle it. I can't-," He stopped talking, turned on his heel and walked out of my room then out the house, slamming the door behind him. I blinked back tears. My life was turning into walking paradox. How could I ever think that the person who loves me so much could ever hurt me like someone who hated me?

Eventually, I got out of bed and putzed around. I hate being lonely in the house. Too quiet without the boys. I got so bored, I actually cleaned. Two hours later, I had just gotten dressed, but I had cleaned out the fridge, started the laundry, cleaned the bathroom, dusted, sewed the buttons back onto a few of the boys' shirts and made the grocery list.

I hate that I have to do things like this to distract me from the fact that John is slowly starting to hate me. I'm so clingy, and when I'm not, I'm accusing him of hurting me. I'd hate me, too. What I need is someone who loves me right now. Someone, anyone at all.

A gift from the heavens rained down on my when someone pounded on the door. I ran to the door and swung it open to face Mr. George Harrison in all his five foot eleven glory. He looked down at me with his wonderful brown eyes.

"Hey, Rose. John around?" he asked. I stared seductively at him.

"No, but I am," I purred.

"Ay, what's with yer eyes? And yer voice? You sick?"

"No, George," I sighed.

"What's with you, then?"

"I need someone, George," I murmured to him. He still looked confused. Cor, boys could be so dense sometimes.

"Dunno what you're talking about, love." He didn't protest as I put his hands on my hips or as I pulled his face closer to mine.

"Don't talk," I whispered when our lips were a centimeter apart. He quickly closed the gap and pulled me closer to him. I wrapped my arms around his neck. As soon as our lips touched, I knew I had made a mistake. I pulled away and let out a small breath.

"We shouldn't have done that, Rose."

"Who're you tellin'?" I frowned. "I just felt like nobody liked me anymore. Me and John had a big fight this morning."

"No wonder the house is so clean."

"That's enough outta you. I guess I'll take a walk. When the rest of them show up, just let 'em in." As I turned to leave, he cleared his throat.

"This, eh, this'll stay between us, yeah?" he asked awkwardly. "John won't know?"

"Course."

As I walked down our street, I decided this'll turn into a slightly longer walk because I really needed a pack of cigarettes. I turned left down our street on to get to the drugstore. A very insistent, but very unfortunate looking suitor of mine spotted me and sprinted across the street to walk next to me. He was _really_ irritating, but quite harmless to be honest.

"'Ello, Rosaline," he greeted lavishly, bringing my hand to his acne ridden face.

"Afternoon, Clyde," I sighed while nonchalantly wiping the back of my hand on my skirt.

"You look ravishing this fine day."

"Thank you, Clyde." I want to wring his neck. He put an arm around my shoulders, making me nearly lose consciousness from his body odor. Dear God, that is rank.

"Where're ya headed, beautiful?" he asked. I pulled my hair out from under his arm as an excuse to get it off of me.

"Drugstore."

"What for?"

"Bloody elephant ears! Why d'you need to know, Clyde?" We finally approached the store.

"Why won't you just gimme a chance, doll? I could be whatever you want!" he pleaded.

"Does that include gone?"

"Forget it then. I'll try harder next time." He kissed my cheek quickly and ran off in another direction.

"Ick," I spat as I wiped the grease off of my face. I stepped into the corner drugstore and asked the clerk for my usual. A Mountain Dew and a pack of Camel cigarettes.

"Fifty pence, Rose." The cashier, Max said. I slid the coins over to him and he slipped me a free pack of matches. With a grateful smile, I slipped out the door and took off back to the house.

As I lit up a smoke, three plastic girls came over to me.

"Oh, Rosaline! How nice to see you looking like a girl for once," sneered Nancy Lamb. I looked her up and down with a smirk and laughed. Her skirt was accidently tucked into her underwear.

"You know, Nancy, there are other ways to let the fellas know you wanna get in their pants. You don't have to keep your skirt _that_ high up." I courteously pulled her skirt down and walked back to the house.

"I'll get you back, Rosaline Poole!" she shrieked. "Maybe by then you won't look like such a…a monkey!"

"Ooh! Burn!"

* * *

As I approached the house, I stubbed out my cigarette on the wall and tucked the rest of the pack into my waistband. I could hear the record player from outside. After cracking the pop open, I pulled my key out of my pocket and unlocked the door. Paul, George and Ringo were horsing around and barely noticed me when I walked in. John sat on the couch, strumming his guitar as if he could hear it over the noise. I set my pop on a nearby table and walked over to him. He looked up at me through his glasses and looked back down ruefully.

Before he could go into his 'I'm-going-to-ignore-everyone-for-hours-or-more-likely-days' mode, I moved his guitar and pulled him up. I dragged him into the hallway leading to the kitchen and stared at him, before I closed my arms around his neck. He hesitated, but wrapped his arms around me as well. I pressed my cheek to his.

"M'sorry, Johnny," I mumbled. "I know you'll never hurt me." He nodded and squeezed me tighter.

"Don't ever think that," he told me while running a hand through my hair. I nodded back to him. "I love you."

I sniffed away tears that were beginning to form. How could I think my best friend could ever hurt me? He was the one who made me feel better. "I love you, too."

I talked to my mother later that night after the guys had left for a drink. She hadn't told my father what had happened yet, and I was beginning to feel that he'll feel betrayed by us if we don't tell him soon. She quickly assured me she would tell him soon and hung up. I put the phone back on its hook and collapsed onto the couch. Maybe I'll just take a quick nap…

Ferocious banging on my front door woke me up two hours later. I hopped up and flung the door open where I found George staring at me with frantic, frightened eyes.

"Are you alright? Did he get you?" he demanded hysterically. He grabbed my face and looked into my eyes. "Rose, answer me!"

"Geo, I'm fine! What's going on?" I asked. Two loud sets of footsteps thunder through the back door.

"She alright?" I heard Ringo call. "RoRo? Where are you?"

"Rose!" Paul sighed in relief as they came through the hallway.

"Can somebody tell me what's going on?" I shouted in frustration. "And where's John?" They all looked at each other and then looked back to me.

"We need to get you out of her-," Paul was cut off by a rock crashing through a window in the kitchen. I screamed and tried to run to the assaulted window. George grabbed my wrist.

"You mad, girl? You gotta stay here!" he commanded. "I'll go check it out." As he walked to the kitchen cautiously, I appealed to Paul and Ringo.

"What happened? Where's John?" I pleaded. Paul scratched the back of his head.

"Well, we happened to see that bloke Dan and his buddy Clyde coming back from the pub." I bristled at the sound of Dan's name, but I was very confused at hearing Clyde's. The same Clyde who had, once again, tried to get me? Clyde may be annoying, but I didn't think he would hang out with the likes of Dan.

"Yeah," Ringo continued. "And John, you know how he is, he and Dan got into a little argument."

"Big argument," Paul amended quietly.

"Yeah, whatever. And Dan, he said since he got his turn, he was gonna let his buddy have a go at you, I guess. So that's when John went fuckin' barmy and tried to fight 'im. We had to drag 'im away screamin' because Dan and Clyde were threatening to come over and, well, you know. So right now he's probably outside the house trying to kill whoever threw that rock."

"Paul! Ritchie!" George called.

"And that is our cue," Paul chuckled grimly. He looked at me seriously. "I'm gonna tell you once and only once. Go in your room, lock the door and _do not come outside_."

"Second option, I'm definitely coming outside," I scoffed.

"Third and final option, stay in the kitchen and look _carefully_ out the window and call the police if I tell you."

"Deal." Paul and Ringo ran outside and I rushed into the kitchen. I looked out the window that was not broken in time to see Paul and Ringo swing around the corner and help pull John away from the offender. I could only assume said offender was Dan or Clyde, and from the volume and frequency of John's expletives, I'm guessing it was Dan.

I quickly ducked down and sat against the counter. My heart was beating rapidly. I have to get out of here. Both ways out would leave me exposed to Dan. This was no good. All of a sudden, I heard three loud gasps, an "Oh, fuck," from Paul, and a painful sounding cough.

"Rose! Call the fuckin' cops!" Paul screamed. "Now!" I ran to the living room and called the police. I didn't know what had happened but I told them to get here as fast as they could.

Despite Paul's warnings, I sprinted out the back door around to where the guys go, my concern for them (slightly) overpowering the crippling fear I had for facing Dan.

"Rose, go back in the house," George warned. He was blocking my view from something.

"Don't tell me what to do. What are you hiding? Where did John go?" I pestered while trying to push past him. Ringo tries to pull me away but I snatched my arms out of his. "Stop it. Why are you trying to hide shit from me?"

"Rose, would you listen for one fuckin' time?" I heard John ask angrily and hoarsely. It was now obvious that he was behind George. I pushed George out of the way and from what I remember, I passed out from the sight I saw.

John's forearm was cut viciously with a knife that lay on the ground.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello everyone! I wrote a slightly longer chapter than usual, so I hope that this will compensate slightly for my updates...or lack thereof. Well, here you go! Reviews are always greatly appreciated.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

George carried me back inside the house and woke me when the police came. He told me that the cops needed a description of Dan and a witness report or something. I basically kept my face in George's shoulder while the medical team took care of John's leg and let Geo translate what I was saying to the police officers. They told us they would be in touch soon. Even when the door closed, I remained hidden in my friend's shoulder. Every time John showed a sign of pain, I would shudder and George would hug me tighter. Eventually, John got up and sat next to us on the couch. He ran a hand through my long, loose hair and sighed.

"It's alright. Just a flesh wound," he said softly. I looked up from George's collarbone and stared at him.

"It's not alright. It's all my fault," I choked. Paul, George and Ringo shook their heads, quickly denying what I'd said.

"No!" Paul protested.

"Course not!" assured Ringo.

"You know that's not true," George scolded. John stayed silent. The guys stared at him and George nudged him. "John…"

"No, I guess it's true," he stated sharply. I gasped. They cleared their throats uncomfortably.

Paul tried to extinguish the situation. "John, maybe now's not the best time to-,"

"I think it's probably time for you all to head out. I'm kinda tired, so if you don't terribly mind..."

They looked around the room awkwardly. "Alright, then. Good night." Paul took the lead and off they went into the night. I gaped at John angrily.

"You can follow 'em out if you'd like," he snapped.

"Excuse me?" My sharp voice shattered this arrogant illusion that he had created for himself. "I've just as much right here as you do."

"Rose, I've got about one nerve left and you are jumping up and down on it," he hissed through his teeth. "All I'm saying is to stop blaming yourself for everything. It's really fucking irritating."

"Then do something, John," I dared him. He rolled his eyes and slowly got up off the couch.

"How much better would I be than your little boyfriend if I did something, hm?"

My nostrils flared. "Take it back."

"Why should i?"

"Take it back, goddammit!"

He leaned in close to my face. "No."

"Take. It. Back."

He raised his eyebrows playfully. "You mad, Rose? Then do something," he mocked.

I lunged at his fucking face, scratching at his eyes and pulling at his hair. "You're such a _dick_!" I screeched.

He tried to pry me off of him, but I kept my nails firmly tangled in his hair.

"Ah! Fucking hell, Rose, get off me!" My hands wouldn't relent, so he finally utilized my one weakness and tickled my stomach. I wiggled away and fell onto the floor with a thump. He smoothed his hair back down. "Could you calm down? You know I'm just fooling! Come on, it's late." He offered a hand to me. I stared at him through angry eyes and stood up without his help.

"Don't tell me to calm down. It make me want to rip your face down and flush it down the toilet. You can fuck off," I said bitingly. I turned on my heel and trucked down the hallway. He called my name, but I simply walked into my room and slammed the door so hard it shuddered and locked it. As I flopped onto my bed, I wondered what my life had become.

The next morning, I got dressed right away so I could go grocery shopping. With a short leather skirt, black tights, a dark blue sweater, black combat boots and my hair actually straightened and down my back, I made my way into the kitchen. List and purse in hand, I walked down the hallway, mentally adding things I might need. John was already sitting at the table drinking his tea.

"Mornin', Rose."

"Go straight to hell, John," I said without looking u p from my list. I walked out the back door, winced when the screen crashed against the frame and made my way downtown.

"…Eggs, milk, margarine, syrup, marmite, sugar, veggies, soap and a lighter. That should be it," I mumbled to myself. I wheeled my items up to the counter and let the cashier ring them up. I threw a candy bar on the counter and flipped through a tabloid.

"That'll be six quid, miss." A plump old lady smiled. I handed her the money and bagged my groceries before taking off toward home. With two bags in each hand, the miserably cold day was really wearing me out. I collapsed on a bench for a second before getting on with my walk.

"Rose!" A familiar voice called out. I kept walking, for I knew it was John. "Rosaline!" he yelled again. I stopped, back still facing him and let him catch up. He tugged at a bag.

"Need some help?" he asked.

"No," I clipped. He took three anyway. We walked in silence on the windy day.

"M'really sorry. Bout last night," he muttered quietly. I said nothing. "I mean, it wasn't your fault. I just want you to stop blaming yourself."

"Carful, there're eggs in that one."

"Rosie, I'm serious. You gotta stop this," he pleaded. I huffed and stopped walking.

"D'you really think I'm not trying, John? I mean, I hate ruining your life like this, and the guys' lives too! I just can't stop feeling this way," I sniffed loudly, trying to stop from crying.

"You gonna cry?" he questioned softly.

"S'just the wind." We continued our walk and didn't speak for the rest of the way back home.

That afternoon, Paul, George and Ringo came over with a major case of the sniffles and a sore throat. They sat around and complained about their ailments to me.

"Well, just what would you like me to do about it?" I asked while pouring over a recipe book. I was trying to think of what to make for dinner.

"Well, we thought you might make us some chicken soup," George pleaded. The other two nodded. John came back in from fixing the window and sneezed loudly.

"That sounds good," he rasped. I guess I know what's for dinner. With instructions not to move or talk, the boys went to sit in the living room and watch the telly while I made the soup.

As I chopped celery, there was a brisk knock on the back door. I scraped the vegetable into the broth and rushed to answer it. Mimi stood with armfuls of knitted scarves, mittens, hats and legwarmers.

"Hello, Rose," she greeted happily, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

"Afternoon, Mimi," I replied and hurried back to my soup.

"The boys aren't making you cook again, are they?" she asked angrily while sorting the bags out. "I swear, they think this little skiffle band gives them the right to everything."

"I think they're getting sick, so they asked me to make 'em some soup. I don't mind really." I stirred the soup slowly after adding the rest of the fixings.

"And what about you, love? How are you feeling?"

"As well as I could be, given the circumstances," I sighed. She rubbed my back soothingly. "John's preventing me from feeling so low."

"He always was good at that," she said, rolling a pair of mittens together. John shuffled into the kitchen.

"Hi, Mimi," he rasped. She leaned away from his incoming kiss.

"I'm not getting sick because of you, boy!" she scoffed. I rubbed my eyes at him.

"I thought I said not to move. I'm gonna bring the food to you," I explained.

"I got thirsty? Is that a crime?" he snapped.

"I suppose it's not," I mumbled, looking back down to the veggies. Mimi cuffed him on the arm.

"That is no way to speak to a lady, you hear me boy?"

"Yes, Mimi."

"Alright, well I just came too drop these off. You all take care and let me know if you need anything," she gave me a pointed look. "Got it?"

"Got it," John and I said in tandem. She gave us each a kiss and John grinned.

"Knew you couldn't hold out," he croaked. She rolled her eyes and waved, shutting the screen door softly so it wouldn't slam. "So how's that soup coming?"

"Fine. It'll be done when these veggies boil," I assured him. He grinned and kissed me on the cheek before loping back out to the living room. I opened the window above the stove to let the heat out. After I scraped the vegetables into the broth, I went outside to hang the clothes on the line. It was chilly so they'd probably be frozen when I when to get them. I felt like I was turning into a housewife. Ringo had to leave (much to my dismay) so I packed him a bowl and bundled him up before he set out. I gave Paul, George and John their soup and got back to my chores.

At the end of our alley where I was taking the garbage out, I saw two figures. I didn't think much of it, but a knot formed in my stomach. I looked up and they were closer. Walked away quickly, pulling Ringo's leather coat around me tightly. They followed me at the same speed. I knew who they were.

"Hey, Rose! Come have a talk with us!" Dan called out. I gulped and picked up the pace. "Aw, don't be that way, baby! Not so tough without your boys, are you?" I ran to the back door, slammed it closed and ran to the living room.

"They're outside," I breathed. Without even knowing the names, John jumped up and took off down the hall. "John, no! Just call the cops!"

"I don't need no bloody cops, Rose! I can take care of me self and of you!"

"John!" I turned to the frozen men in my living room. "Go stop him!" I screamed and ran after John, intending to stop him myself.

"Rose, stop!" Paul called. I completely ignored him and flew out the back door as fast as my feet had ever carried me. John's sick and hurt because of me. He's not getting in trouble because of me either. He was about to hop the fence when I tackled him at full speed. We both tumbled onto the icy grass. I had him pinned when I saw his crazed, angry brown eyes.

"He'll never leave you alone, Rosaline," he hissed. "You're always looking over your shoulder like he's gonna kill you and he won't. He's inside your head." Paul came over and pulled me off of John. John stood up, towering over me. "And you know what? It ends tonight."

My eyes widened. "John, you couldn't possibly-,"

"We're through with him forever after tonight. I'll take care of this." He pulled out a blade. The one that was in his leg. I shivered t the image. "If you leave this house tonight, I'm telling your dad what happened meself."

"I gasped. "John, you wouldn't." He raised an eyebrow amusedly.

"Oh, wouldn't I?" he challenged. "I'll be back." And he was gone. I turned to Paul desperately.

"Paul, please. Please, you have to stop him! He'll kill him! He'll go to jail! I can't lose him!" I cried uselessly. He followed him even though we both knew it would do no good. George came outside and hugged, but he didn't say anything. He just held me while I sniffled. We both knew full well that once John got going, he couldn't be stopped.

"Maybe you should try to sleep," George suggested. It had been hours and John and Paul still weren't back. I sat in front of the window miserably staring through the glass. This was all my fault. Why did I always have to be a victim?

"M'fine right here," I mumbled absently. What if they were out there hurt? George sighed and scooped me up from the chair by the window. Funny, I barely noticed I was moving. He stood me up and hugged me tightly. I blinked and let a few tears fall. I sniffed out of despair while he sniffed out of his sickness. "You need rest," I decided quietly. "I'll be fine here." He squeezed me tighter.

"I won't leave you alone," he rasped with a scratchy voice. He cleared his throat. "_He_ could be anywhere. I wanna know you're safe."

"Thanks." I didn't really want to be alone. "I don't wanna sleep yet, though."

"That's fine. We can put on some music," he smiled softly. He let me go and sifted through all of the records we had. He picked an album, then put the needle on my favorite ballad, _My Darling Forever_, by Rosie and the Originals. He came back over and gathered me in his arms. I smiled and laid my head on his shoulder, softly singing along.

"_My darling,_

_My forever loving angel_

_I will love you forever_

_And I promise to be true _

_True oooh"_

George took over and sang back to me, in a much lower tone.

_Forever_

_Yes forever, you'll be mine_

_You're the only love for me_

_Till the end of time_

I kept quiet and let him sing the rest to me, marveling at his rich, clear voice full of emotion as he crooned to me and swayed us back and forth. It felt natural, being in his arms, instead of weird and disgusting like being with Dan. He gently ran his hand through my hair as he finished up the song.

_Whoooo, mile after mile,_

_Whoooo, mile after mile,_

_Whooo, mile after mile._

He opened his beautiful brown eyes and stared into mine. I lifted my head off of his shoulder and kissed him. Just like that. This time, unlike the last, I didn't regret it. We didn't pull away. It felt perfect. It was like Dan had never hurt me because George completely healed me. Just…perfect.

He finally pulled away to smile at me. "I think we've made some progress," he chuckled. Suddenly, the front door slammed.

"Oh, I knew you'd screw me over one day, Harrison!" John laughed, painfully drunk. "That's fucking great! But you know what? This shit?" He pointed at the two of us. "Not. Gonna. Happen." He turned and left again.

"Shit," I whispered.

"Stay here," George instructed.

"Nah, I'll come." We walked out to where John was pacing angrily. George approached him slowly with his hands raised.

"John, wai-," was all he said before John socked him one in the stomach.

"You're not gonna touch her again, Harrison," John slurred at him. "You hear me? This ends now." I pulled him away.

"John, stop acting like an overprotective numbskull! I'm a big girl! I can take care of myself," I seethed.

"Well, obviously not if guys can just shag you left and right!" he sneered. George's mouth dropped and his eyes widened. John could really put his foot in his mouth, but this just crossed a line.

"Get out," I said emotionlessly. "I never want to see you again. I'll be packed by tomorrow." Both of their faces fell as they stumbled over each other, demanding explanations. They were ignored and I walked into the house without another word. When the door slammed shut, I sunk to the floor. Was that really all John took me for? A whore who couldn't take care of herself?

The door tried to open but I was still in front of it. "Rose! Open the damn door! I'm sorry! I wasn't thinking," John explained.

"Leave John. You won't have to deal with me anymore." I put the chain bolt on the door before I begun packing.

Okay, I hadn't started packing. I found an old box of pictures and I've been looking through them for two hours. One is of me and John standing in front of Mimi's house. On the back it read _1949,_ _Mendips, John, aged nine, Rosaline, aged five_. I smiled at the way John tried to hide his grin as I made a silly face at the camera. Another was one I took of Paul and John at a park, just a few years ago. Paul cheesed at the camera while John and George scowled at having their pictures taken. Even another was a picture I'd tried to take of John and me standing in the mirror in my room. The first half of the roll was great, but then John got bored so the rest were of him putting his head on my shoulder and making twisted faces. My favorite was a really old one. John and I lay on a small twin bed in our pajamas. I was curled into his side with my head on his chest and he had his head on top of mine, wrapping his arms around me. We've sat in that very position countless times growing up. I don't think I'll be able to handle not being able to, but leaving was best for both of us.

I sighed. This day started off so normally. Now, my entire life is in shambles. I packed a bag for a few days. I was going to visit my best friends. They'll know what to do. Maybe I should ring them just in case. Hopefully the time their phone rang wouldn't annoy them, but then again, I don't care.

"Hello," she grumbled. I guess she didn't use the nocturnal schedule I seemed to be running lately. _Who is that?_ I could hear Colleen ask drearily in the background.

"Hi, Vi!" I greeted nervously.

"Rose," Violet mumbled to Colleen. "So what's so important that you needed to wake me at half three in the morning?"

"I was just wondering if I could come visit you for a few days?" I knew she'd say yes.

"Do you even need to ask?" I could hear the sleepy smile in her raspy voice.

"At least I'm polite, anyway," I grinned. She laughed loudly.

"See you soon."

"Bye." Though I was leaving my brothers in a sense, I would be reunited with my sisters.

That made me feel like dancing.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for seriously never updating my stories. I'm working restlessly for NaNoWriMo if anybody knows what I'm talking about. Anyway, here's the newest chapter and I'll try to update "Allie" soon.**

**Enjoy and review!**

* * *

Later that morning, I called Astrid, an old friend of the boys. I'd come down to visit the boys in Hamburg for a weekend once, and the two of us clicked instantly. I told her of my plans to visit Austria and she said she would meet me at the London stop of the train I was taking. She was there on holiday and would take the train with me up until Paris before I went on the rest of my voyage.

After I'd got dressed, done my hair and eaten, I took my duffle, camera bag and a few books along with my wallet, full of about ten or twenty pounds that I'd been saving up to buy some clothes and junk, but I would use it for my train ticket.

I stepped on a note as I walked out the front door. When I smoothed it out, I saw from the scrawling handwriting that it was from John.

_Rose, sorry I was such a tool, totally shit-faced. I'm at Paul's, George is with Ring,he wasn't mad. Please don't leave, I love you this much._ Beneath those words was a drawing of a person whose arms were stretched out the length of the page. _Don't be angry, love you love you love you from John._ There were loads of hearts, sad faces and other nebulous nothings. I sighed and tucked the note into my pocket. The least I could do was go see Ritchie and George before I left. Then at least someone would know where I'd gone. I pulled the door shut and locked it before setting off down the street.

George was staying over at Ringo's, so I could kill two birds with one stone. When I arrived, I banged on the door as hard as I could. Ritchie stumbled to the door and smiled sleepily at me, no pity or anything. He obviously hadn't talked to his other two friends yet.

"Hiya, Ro," he greeted. He still sounded sick. "Come on in." He opened the door wider so I could squeeze through with all of my things.

"How are you feeling?" I asked like a mother hen.

He grinned. "Better. Geo's catching it worse than me." I frowned at him. "Anyway, where're you going with all that stuff? You finally moving out?" he joked.

"Close to it, I guess. I'm leaving for a while," I informed him guiltily. His eyes saddened as I tried to avoid looking into them by looking for George.

"What? Why?" he questioned. I spotted George sleeping on the couch, pushed his hair away from his flushed forehead and put another pillow under his head before tucking the blanket tighter around him. I hope he wouldn't be too mad at me when he finds out I left without saying goodbye to him.

"Um, yeah. I'm just gonna stay with Violet and Colleen for a while," I explained. "Clean slate, you know?"

His face fell, but a sliver of hope filled his blue eyes. "So far away? You'll be back soon though, right?"

"Right," I lied. "Real soon."

"Good."

"Could you maybe keep this to yourself for a while? Our little secret?" I pleaded. He looked nervous.

"What if John asks?" he coughed.

"I was never here. Please, Ritch?" I begged. He glanced at George quickly. "Please?"

He stared at me seriously. "You'll be back soon?"

"Yeah."

"And you'll ring me?"

"Or write, sure I will," I promised.

He sighed tiredly. "Fine. Be careful."

"Thanks, Ringo," I pulled him into a hug and he squeezed me tightly.

"I love you, Ro." He kissed me on the cheek and I gave him one back.

"Love you too. I'll call soon. Take care of him." George stirred when I kissed his clammy cheek. "Bye Ring!" I called as I left down the street toward the train station that would take me to London. I was finally on my way.

"Rose!" Astrid called from across the station. I whipped my head around to see her walking quickly toward me.

"Hey, Astrid!" I squealed. She dropped her bag to hug me tightly. "I'm so glad you're here!" she was like an older sister to me, so I was always really excited when I got to see her.

"Well, come on and let's buy our tickets," she said. I suddenly felt hard things pelting the back of my head.

"Ay, ten points for hitting the Scouse!" guffawed a tall and chubby boy of thirteen or fourteen.

"And the Kraut!" his friend cackled. They had handfuls of pennies that they were obviously throwing at us. "Go back to the mud hole you came from!"

"Why don't you piss off, you Queen's arse kissin' babies!" I shouted while showing them a very rude finger. Astrid tried to calm me down, but I picked up a few of the pennies they threw and hurled them at the both of them. The coins ricocheted off of their foreheads and they cried out in pain before running away. "Yeah, keep running you bloody sickos."

Astrid grabbed my arm tightly, dragging me off toward the turnstile. "Let's go before you get hauled off by the cops."

"Right."

"…so that's why you can't tell them." I completely spilled to Astrid as soon as our train took off. We were already halfway to Paris by the time I finished. She stared intently at me with her serious eyes, giving an occasional sympathetic nod or an encouraging smile. However, when I finished the story, she looked upset.

"And you're sure you can't even tell one of them? Even Paul, at least?" she asked nervously.

"I told Ritchie and he promised not to tell them. I really just need a break. To get away from them, you know? To find myself. Don't you understand Astrid? I can't stay there. I just needed to get away from Dan and all that," I explained. Her eyes flickered with anger.

"Rosaline, you can't use that jerk as an excuse for leaving your friends. Unless you admit that the reason for leaving them _is_ them, you'll never be satisfied with anything. Do you understand me? You can't torture those poor boys with that. They're going out of their minds to protect you from this bloke, and all they really need to be doing is protecting you from themselves. I know how hard it's been for you. You've changed. I can tell. Your eyes, your smile, your whole personality has changed. That idiot wrecked you, and I know they've been beside themselves trying to help you because you're not you!" her face softened and she pushed my hair back behind my ear. "They love you so much. You just have to let them know you're alright."

"I know," I sighed. "Astrid…I just need to leave. For just a little bit. I need you to please, as my friend, as my sister, let me stay away."

Astrid let out a deep breath. "Okay," I closed my eyes in relief. "But, Rosaline," she said as the train slowed to her stop in Paris. I opened one eye and peeked at her. "I trust you'll tell them before I have to." She kissed my cheek, hugged me and gathered her bags before exiting the train with one last soul-stirring glance. The doors closed and she was gone.

Hours later, after I had transferred trains and fell asleep, I woke up and I was _finally _in Vienna. Now, I was trying to take the subway to get to Colleen and Violet's neighborhood. With the help of a few lovely Vienna natives, I finally managed to make it to their apartment development. It was a pretty posh neighborhood, but that can only be suspected as their parents had made certain that they would be safe living alone.

I marched up to their stoop, pointedly glaring down any of the multi hair colored and baggy clothed bohemians and searched for the _Langrove-Putnam_ label (written in Violet's bubbly handwriting) and rang the doorbell twice. The door was yanked open by Colleen, her chestnut hair in a loose pony tail and her hazel-ish eyes and slightly tanned skin aglow.

"Rosie-Posey!" she squealed. She tackled me and we both tumbled to the ground.

"Holly Collie," I grinned. She smiled wider and kissed me on the cheek.

"I've missed you so much!" She took one of my bags. "Well, come on in! We'll wake Vi. She's been sleeping all day." She looked at me again and beamed. "I can't believe you're here! Anyway, follow me." She led me down the first floor hallway to a door that read _109_. She held her finger to her lips. "Violet slept on the couch so you have to be quiet."

"Okay," I whispered. She unlocked the door quietly and led me to the living room where Vi slept with one leg on top of the covers and one underneath. Her straight, light blonde hair was pooled about her head and she clutched her pillow for dear life. She snored softly, not even aware that the door had opened. I crept silently over to her and took the other pillow from the couch and she barely stirred. I took a deep breath and help it so I wouldn't laugh, raised the pillow above my head and whacked Violet as hard as I could. Alarmed, her eyes snapped open, revealing frightened icy blue irises.

"What the hell?!" she shrieked. I grinned at her as her eyes tried to focus in the bright sunlight. As soon as she saw it was me, she smiled widely. "Rosie!"

She jumped up from the couch and squeezed me tightly. "Colleen! Rose is here!"

"I know," Colleen responded nonchalantly.

"If you knew, why didn't you stop her from whacking me with a pillow till me bloody brains came out?"

"Why would I do that? It was hysterical," Col smirked. Great to be back with my best friends, wasn't it?

* * *

We spent that day walking around town. I was promised a room for as long as I wanted and my friends showed me around town. Colleen took me to her office and Vi took me to the studio where she work and took classes. At the end of the day, we sat around each other eating ice cream and all that other junk food shit, just like old times.

I braided Violet's hair while Col told a hilarious story of a snooty male model who had tripped on the runway, fell flat on his face and pretended like no one saw. We laughed at her funny faces and voices.

"So, Rose," Violet said after a fit of giggles. "How're the boys?" My eyes widened with realization.

"Oh, fucking hell! I have to call Rings!" Colleen blushed. She'd had a crush on Ringo since the day she laid eyes on him.

"You can use our phone," she offered. "It's on the kitchen wall. I smiled briefly and rushed to the kitchen. I had to wait for the operator to connect me and waited for three rings until the phone was picked up.

"Hello?!" Ringo shouted gruffly. I could hear yelling and crashing in the background.

"Thought you'd be happy to hear from me."

Ringo cleared his throat. "Oh, of course I'm happy to hear from you, mother."

"What do you mean, Rings?" I asked. He cleared his throat again as John yelled _Is that her? Is that Rose?_

"Just me mum, John," Ringo replied. John cried out in frustration.

"Ringo, I'm okay. I made it here."

"Good to hear. You call more often, you hear? I don't want-,"

"That's her! I know it is!" John roared. There was a tussle and I assume John won. "Rose? Is that you? I'm so sorry! Rose!"

"I'll catch you later, John," I said quietly. I heard him protest, demanding to know where I was. I heard George ask frantically the same questions, wanting to talk to me. I heard Paul try to wrestle the phone from John's hand. But I hung up before any words could spill out. I didn't realize how much I missed home and the boys. If I stayed on the line, I knew I would end up begging them to come get me.

Colleen and Violet forced me to tell my sordid tale before I went to sleep. They both agreed that I should probably call Ringo back tomorrow and we went to bed.

The three of us woke up late the next morning. I made some breakfast while Colleen went to get the newspaper and Violet set the table. It was just like old times, whipping up trouble in Mimi's kitchen. I flipped an omelet as Colleen strutted back into the apartment and collapsed loudly on a chair.

"And what evil wind doth shake thy lovely maiden from her slumber? Oh, it is the purest evil of them all; the sun dost shine through her eyelids!" Colleen projected. "That's Shakespeare, you know," she informed us as before flicking open the paper.

"From what play, Romeo and An Idiot Named Colleen?" Violet snorted placing a cup of tea in front of Col.

"Ah, that's enough outta you."

I grinned and distributed the food. "Cute. Eat up, yeah?"

"Gladly," Vi agreed. She munched and talked through her food. "So, Rose, me and Col got work today, so you'll have to stick around town until lunch."

"Hey, that's okay. Why would I give up an opportunity to explore?" I smirked.

"True."

"Hey, hold your tea still, Rose," Colleen instructed with one eye shut, aiming a sugar cube. "I wanna see if I can make it."

"If this splashes on me," I warned as she tossed it. It, of course, splashed me. I took the newspaper out of her hand and whacked her ponytail off kilter.

"Ay! Watch it, punk!" she huffed.

" Ritchie?" I squeaked through the payphone outside of the apartment.

"Rose, they're on their way to get you," Ringo blurted nervously. My eyes widened.

"_What?_ Rings, I thought you weren't gonna tell them! Oh, cor, I gotta get out of here!" I panicked.

"I don't mean to scare you, but I think by the time you try to leave, they'll be there."

"You didn't try to stop them?"

"Course I did," he scoffed. "We had a deal. Got a nice shiner out of it to boot." I instantly felt guilty.

"I'm sorry, Rings. I'm putting you through too much for this."

"I'd do anything for you, Ro. I just could't stop them."

"Ritchie, what am I gonna do?" I groaned. "I can't see them!"

"You're gonna have to face them, Ro. There's nothing we can do now."

When Violet and Colleen came home for lunch, I quickly told them my dilemma. They rang their jobs and took the rest of the day off to be with me. Violet took me by the shoulders and gazed into my eyes seriously.

"Rose, I need you to understand that you do _not _have to leave. Don't let him John you into leaving."

"'John' me into leaving?" I repeated. "Since when did he become a verb?"

"Since you let him talk you into anything," Colleen jumped in. I rolled my eyes.

"You exaggerate, love."

"Think what you want." There were suddenly sounds of footsteps pounding down the hallway. "Rose, go in my room and lock the door," Col instructed with an authoritative voice. I opened my mouth to protest but she would have none of it. "Now!"

I did as I was told and leaned against the door after the locked clicked. Their front door opened with a mighty crash.

"John," Colleen said venomously. "What a lovely surprise."

"You can cut the act, Langrove. Where is she?" he shouted.

"Who?"

"You know fucking who! Rose!"

"She lives with you, John." I could almost see her rolling her eyes. "Don't you think you ought to know?"

"Don't play dumb with me you little twat!" he growled. I forgot to mention that the two of them weren't quite fond of each other.

"You need to watch your bloody gob in this household!" Violet said loudly. "I'll have none of this 'twat' shit while I'm here!"

"Rosaline Ophelia fucking Poole, if you don't get your arse out here now, I'll drag you back to Liverpool by the eyelash!"

I yanked the door open. "You're not gonna do _shit!" _I spat. Even through the furious flames in his eyes, I saw relief wash through them. I looked over his shoulder at George and Paul. George stared at me, presumably grateful that I'd been found, and Paul looked at me like he'd never see me again. John quickly enveloped me in a hug, shaking in relief as he laid his cheek on my hair.

"Cor, I was so scared, Rose," he breathed. I let him hug me but I kept my face blank. He pulled away and looked me in my eyes. "Get your stuff, we're leaving."

"Rosie," Col warned. "Remember what we said."

"You hear me? We gotta go before the next train leaves," he said impatiently. I took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eyes.

"I'm not leaving," I stated.

"_What?_" he stuttered as he stepped back. Violet and Colleen instantly closed ranks.

"She said she's staying," Vi repeated with a smug grin. John's eyes were painful to look into.

"Rose," he whimpered sadly. "Why?"

"I left you all for a reason. If you'd just let me be, I would've come back soon. I hope you all accomplish whatever you hope to, because I won't be there to see it. Please leave," I asked quietly.

"But-," George started sadly.

"No! Let's leave her to it!" John sneered. "I don't ever want to see you again. I thought you were my sister but you leave me just like everyone else! I love you so much, but I will _never _forgive you. I hope you're happy here." Without a goodbye, he stormed out of the apartment. Paul stepped forward.

"Ring me anytime, love. Do what you need to do and when you do it, I'll be there for you," he promised. He kissed my cheek quickly and followed John. "Bye Rose." Finally, George stepped toward me.

"You won't forget me, will you?" I asked him. He snorted.

"I think you're pretty unforgettable." He bit his lip and wrapped me up in a tight hug. I squeezed him right back. He was my friend, confidante, and my brother. Maybe we could've been something more. "I love you, Rosie Cakes," he grinned. "I'll see you?"

"Of course. We'll meet again someday, George."

"Someday," he repeated sadly. "That doesn't always mean soon, does it?"

"Not always." He kissed me for a long, perfect moment. Afterwards, and our eyes met and I blushed.

"Take care, Rosie. Wait for me?"

"Always." Vi and Colleen each took one of my arms and stood with me as I watched them walk down the street to the train station.

"You're not even crying, Rose," Colleen said. I shrugged.

"Why cry? I hurt them more than they hurt me," I explained. Violet held my hand tightly.

"You did the right thing, Rosie," she told me. "Besides, what've you got to cry about? You've got us!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Here we go! Update nation! I hope you enjoy the updates at the late hour! P.S. Next chapter will be biggggg!**

**Enjoy & Review! xxx**

* * *

It's been almost a year since I've seen any of the boys or my family. My father hasn't spoken to me since my mother told him about Dan. Paul, George and Ringo ring all the time. They've really made it big. Huge. They're an international phenomenon. The Beatles, they are. Girls screamed and went mad over them. All of their records are constantly on in the house. My favorite song of theirs, _Please Please Me,_ was playing now. The third of January, today, is the day when my life changed…again. I cut myself off.

The house was pretty empty without the boys. I cook for one or maybe two if Mimi drops by. It's always quiet except for the record player. No more whining or guitar solos or late night conversations. I had to admit, I missed John. He's my brother for all intents and purposes. It was hard to watch their success grow because they got that much further away from me. It sounds selfish, I know, but they're all I've got. John's things are still around and it kind of hurts to see it.

John seems so happy with his band. They've been playing all over. I bought a ticket to one of their shows and I had to leave before they could get past the first song. Hearing his voice made my heart nearly break in two, even if the girls were screaming too loud. He sounded happy. That's all I want for him at this point.

And George never forgot about me. He used to ring every Wednesday to make sure I'm alright. Sometimes he'd give Paul the phone and we'd talk about old times. Other times, Ringo would come on the line and he'd joke about coming to take me on tour with them. The calls are few and far between now. So it goes, I suppose. John never talked on the phone. If there's one person who can hold a grudge longer than I can, it's him.

I'm usually alone in the house. I hummed as I cooked one day. Sometimes, I'd smoked on the back porch, just for old time's sake. Only in the daytime, of course. _Certain_ people still stopped by and that didn't make me very happy.

I guess I should start on January second. It was about half twelve at night and there was a loud knock at the front door. I woke up and opened it without looking to see who it was.

"Dan!" I choked out. His hair was in messy disarray and he dangled a bottle of whiskey between his fingers. "Um, are you…" He walked toward me slowly, backing me into the house.

"Plastered?" he mumbled. I hit a wall and he continued to walk forward until we were merely centimeters apart. He put his hands on my waist and held me against the wall as I tried to squirm. "You're driving me mad, Rosie. Just like old times, right?"

"Dan, please stop," I said uncomfortably. He laughed.

"Relax," he slurred. "Here, drink some." He tried to make me drink the alcohol; it burned my throat and splashed into my eyes. I sputtered and tried to catch my breath. "See, relax." He kissed down my neck and all I could think about was that day.

"Dan, stop!" I tried to push him off of me – it was happening all over again. He was so strong. "Get away from me!" He dropped the bottle and held my face between his hands.

"Who's gonna stop me, eh love? Your big scary brothers?" he laughed loudly. "Well, they're gone now. Forgot all about you, haven't they? They're big and famous now, yeah?"

"Dan-,"

"They don't need you anymore, Rose," he hissed. "They're unstoppable. _Powerful_. And what are you? Just their little rose in the concrete. You're worthless!" He shook my shoulders roughly, making my head hit the wall.

I heard new footsteps run in and he pulled Dan away from me. "They don't need you! You're holding them back. Let them go, you bloody-,"

"I'm sorry, Rose." It was Clyde. "I'm sorry. For him. For everything that happened. I'm sorry." Without another word, he dragged Dan out the door and it was quiet again. I closed and locked the door and curled up on the couch. Dan's words echoed in my head. He was right. They didn't need me. I can't hold them back. That's selfish.

No more calls, no more letters. No more of my boys.

The idea that I might not see John again haunted me – unwelcome and too painful to contemplate. Weeks passed, so did phone calls. At first the calls came slowly, then they were consistent. I knew it was them because anyone who needed to contact me that badly could simply walk down the street. They sent letters. Sometime I read them; mostly I put them in the sink and set a match to them.

It seems petty, but I was kind of angry at John. Not one letter came from him, and I guarantee he would've never picked up a phone. We were friends. Friends are there for each other no matter what.

The phone was ringing incessantly one day. Finally, I took a breath and answered it.

"Hello?" I said quietly.

"Don't talk, just listen." It was John's voice. It was angry and hesitant. "I'm done living without you, do you understand? I miss you so much, but you left. I couldn't get you back and I gave up. Now I'm not going to give up anymore. I'm trying again." It was silent. "Well?"

"It has been almost a year. That's how long it's been since you've even talked to me. Do you get that? You aren't here for me anymore. You were my best friend."

"You _are _my best friend. I'm always here for you."

"What about right now?" I yelled. "What about when I'm trying not to leave the house? What about when my heart breaks every time I see you in a paper because you look so bloody happy without me? I could use a friend. But you don't qualify as that anymore. Because a real friend would know about all the shit I've been dealing with lately. Congratulations. I hope this is what you wanted. Don't come back."

I slammed the phone down and it rang almost immediately. "What?"

"Rose?" It was George. "Why haven't you been answering? I was worried sick."

"George," I smiled.

"Anyway, we're all coming home soon. Do we still have a place to stay?" he asked.

"Um…no." I felt guilty immediately.

"No? Well why not, love?" He sounded heartbroken.

"I just can't, okay?" There were sounds of shuffling and a door closing before he spoke again.

"You alright, Rosie?" he asked. I didn't say anything. "You can talk to me about anything, you know."

"It's nothing, really. You lot are doing so well, I'm so proud of you. I don't want you to have to come back here and have to hang about with someone like me. You're famous now."

"Well, we're not staying forever. Just a while. There's no one I'd rather see than you, Rose," he said sincerely. "What do you say?"

I tried to keep my voice from shaking. "Of course. The house is always open to you all."

"It'll be just like old times," he said cheerfully.

"Right. Just like old times."

"I love you, Rose. A lot. See you soon."

"I love you too. Bye."

That was the split second when I decided to break the promise to myself and to the boys.

Nearly a week passed. For the first few days, I paced nervously in the house all the time, anticipating the exact moment when they would arrive. I stocked up on groceries so they'd have everything they wanted. By about Thursday, I was so tired of being responsible and cleaning up. I slept and ate for most of that day. I happened to run out for some cigarettes when I ran into Clyde. He wasn't as annoying as before. He apologized again for everything that'd happened. Unfortunately, he hadn't talked to Dan since that night and he was still around. On a whim, I gave Clyde a hug and thanked him before I rushed back home.

Friday was the day. It was a blazing hot July day. I was actually relaxed. I got the laundry in from the line and folded up some blankets for the boys. It was late at night when there was a quiet knock at the door. I checked the window before I opened it. There was a large, strong man with glasses and curly hair was standing outside.

"Um, hi," I greeted nervously. He smiled pleasantly.

"Rosaline Poole?" he asked. I nodded. "Pleasure to meet you m'lady. I've heard plenty about you. My name is Malcolm Evans, Mal for short. I'm here to deliver four very tired Beatles to you."

"Will you also be staying with us, Mal?" I asked, looking around the living room. "I could set something up for you to sleep on." Mal shook his head.

"No, thank you. I'm going home to my wife and son while we're here."

"Oh, I'm sorry! Here I am holding you back! Send the boys in and have a good night," I smiled. He grinned and said goodnight. A few moments later, I was wrapped in someone's arms and having the life hugged out of me. When he pulled back, I smiled at Ringo. His blue eyes were tired but he was still excited.

"RoRo!" he cheered. He pulled me into another hug and I watched John walk into his old room without a glance toward me. Paul complained that Ringo was hogging me so he pulled me away and swept me into a hug.

"Hey Rose," he grinned. His hair was all ruffled – probably from sleeping in the car. He kissed my cheek and whispered not to worry about John. He was jumpy the whole ride here. They both went into the living room and collapsed onto the sofas, promptly falling asleep. George came in, struggling with four suitcases. I rushed to take two from him.

His eyes were tired but he smiled at me nonetheless. "Don't let them push you around like that," I said as we quietly set the bags in the living room.

"I don't mind so much. I did mind not seeing you for so long," he grinned. "I missed you, Rosie Cakes." He pressed his lips to mine gently and laughed when I blushed.

"Missed you too." He yawned. "Go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning." He kissed me again before he flopped on the couch, kicked his feet up onto the coffee table and fell asleep. When I heard them all start snoring, my heart warmed up and my stomach fluttered. It really was like old times.

I went into my room, propped the window open and sat on the bed. I lit a cigarette, took a drag and sighed out the smoke as a million thoughts ran through my head. The door squeaked and opened slowly.

"Mind if I sit?" John asked quietly. I didn't respond but he sat next to me anyway. My heart beat fast and hard, and tears tried to fight their way out of my eyes. We were so close to each other but it felt as if we were strangers. Like we'd never met before. I took another drag and stubbed the cigarette out on the window sill.

"What is it?" I asked. "Why are you here?" He cleared his throat and looked down at his hands.

"We're, ah, going to the states," he said quietly. "So I don't know when we'll be back. That's why I'm here. This will probably be the last time I can ever come see you without some leech following me around. I missed you so much before and I couldn't believe it when you said that shit to me because I thought you missed me, too."

"I did. So much. For the first few days when I came home and you weren't here, I just wanted to scream bloody murder. Those three rang me all the time and I was just waiting for this fight to go by like all our other tiffs, but you never wanted to talk to me. They made excuses for you, you know. I didn't want to lose you, I just needed you so badly." John finally pulled me into his arms and hugged me tightly. "I can't lose you."

He stroked my hair softly. "Shh, it's alright, love. Don't cry, love. I'm back for now and that's all we need, right? All we need is each other."

"We're tearing each other apart, John!" I said. "Don't you see? You being here with me, it's holding you lot back. I'm so proud of all of you and I can't let you be distracted and think about what's happening with me. I don't want you to come back. I want you to go far away and become rich and famous and one day just promise you'll tell me all about it. That's all I want, please."

He wiped a tear off of my face and kissed my cheek. "Listen, even though I'll be far away, you'll always be on my mind. You're _my _Rose." He hugged me again. "And even though we've changed, we'll change more, I know. We're finding our own place in the world. But I know that wherever we are, whenever the tears fall or the smiles come, we'll find each other. You know why?" I shook my head. "Because no matter where this crazy world takes us, nothing will ever change so much to the point that you're not my sister and I'm not your brother."

"The hardest part about letting you go is loving you so much. I want you to be happy with all of my heart. I'd take all the pain in the world to see you happy. You know that, right?" I asked. He nodded.

"Likewise. I'd give this all up if you asked me to. In a heartbeat. If you ever need me, day or night; winter, spring, summer or fall, just ring. I'll come running to see you." He glanced up at the wall and smiled. "Where'd you find that picture? It's so old."

It was a picture of us as children, I was about three and he was around seven or eight. I had my eyes shut tight and my lips were puckered toward him. His face was a hilarious combination of fear and utter disgust as he leaned away from me.

"I miss those times," he said quietly. "I miss you. I saw you all the time, wherever we went. I saw your hair or heard someone who almost had your laugh or I saw a girl with your eyes. I saw this bird who could've been your sister and I couldn't stand it. I couldn't look away and when I did, I rang you because I missed you. I love you, Rose."

I exhaled slowly. "Thank you for loving me. For being my eyes when I couldn't see and being my breath when I couldn't breathe. I can lose you, John. Not again." I lay down and he lay beside me, wrapping his arms around me. Tears ran down from the corners of my eyes and I closed them.

When we held each other, in the darkness, it didn't make the darkness go away. The bad things were still out there. The nightmares were still walking. When we held each other, we felt not safe, but better. "It's alright" we whisper, "I'm here, I love you." And we lie: "I'll never leave you." For just a moment, the darkness doesn't seem so bad. Because it was okay as long as we had each other.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello everyone! Though this chapter may look short, it's jam packed and it's setting up for some future developments. Keep sending me ideas and thoughts on the stories because I truly cherish them. **

**As always, enjoy! (and review) xx**

* * *

At about eight in the morning, I was up and cooking breakfast before any of the boys were conscious. John awoke unusually early and was happy to see me.

"Good morning, Rosie m'dear," he grinned. He sat down and jauntily crossed his legs, biting his lip with a smile. "Lovely day, isn't it."

"Only the best when you're here," I agreed, raising my cup of tea slightly. He rolled his eyes.

"Ah, come off of this sleepiness," he urged. He pulled me up and spun me around. "Look ahead, Rosie! We've got the world at our fingertips!"

"I suppose we do," I said nonchalantly.

"Let's dance!"

"Beg your pardon? John Lennon wants to dance?" I asked incredulously. "Do me ears deceive me?"

"Shut it," he laughed.

"Oh, alright." We waltzed as he sang.

"_Des yeax qui font baisser les miens_

_Un rire quise perd sur sa bouche _

_Viola le portrait sans retouches_

_De l'homme auquel j'appartiens," _he crooned as we danced across the floor.

I was surprised at his pronunciation. He used to speak French as well as a dog could request a cup of coffee. I raised an eyebrow and he smirked a bit before pulling me closer and dancing more dramatically.

"_Quand il me prend dans ses bras,"_ I continued. _"Il me parle tout bas-,"_

"_Je vois la vie en rose," _he sang with me. I laughed and he spun us around even more. "I don't know the rest of the words, so we'll sing the rest in English, eh?"

"Hold me close and hold me fast," I smiled. "The magic spell you cast, this is la vie en rose. When you kiss me, heaven sighs, and though I close my eyes, I see la vie en rose."

"When you press me to your heart, I'm in a world apart, a world where roses bloom," he sang in a clear baritone, pinching my cheek when he sang 'roses'.

"And when you speak, angels sing from above."

He turned me around gracefully. "Everyday words seem to turn into love songs!"

"Give your heart and soul to me," I started.

"And life will always be," he took up.

"La vie en rose!" we sang together. He smiled and plopped back down on his seat.

"There's breakfast on the stove," I told him. "I'm going to wake George up." His face fell into a slightly angry frown as I walked away. I knocked on the guest room door and George pulled me inside immediately. "Good morning."

"Morning," he said quickly before he pressed his lips against mine and shutting the door. I could taste alcohol on his mouth and he looked a little hung over. He pulled me over to the bed and pushed me down before he climbed on top of me.

"George, what are we doing here?" I asked nervously. He put his lips back on mine and laid on top of me so that all of his weight was on me. "Maybe we should stop. I mean John's in the other room…"

"Fuck him," he muttered, inching my shirt off. I struggled slightly. "C'mon, would you just stop worrying about John? He's not your fucking father, is he? It's none of his what we want to do." I pulled my shirt back down. "Rose!"

"Maybe I don't want to do this!" I snapped. "It's not really romantic, is it? You shagging me while three other people are in the house?" He pushed me onto the bed even harder by pinning my arms down onto it.

"Well, _I _want to do this," he hissed. His fingers dug into my arms harshly.

"Ouch!" I shrieked. "Get away from me! Now!" He continued to squeeze harder. "Ow!"

At once, Paul and Ringo were pounded at the door, demanding to be let in. George's fingers had squeezed into my arms so hard that his fingernails were beginning to stab into my skin. "Shh, be quiet!"

"I can't be quiet, you're hurting me!" Once those words were uttered, there were three simultaneously angry protests.

"Move the fuck out of my way," John growled to Paul and Ringo. "George Harrison, you bloody fucker, I'll kill you! Open this blasted door." George didn't respond, he just kept his angry gaze fixed on my.

"George, get off, now!" I said, tears beginning to pool in my eyes. I felt my skin break where his fingers dug in.

"Fucking hell! Open the bloody door!" John roared. George still ignored him.

Finally, John kicked the door open. He turned red with fury when he saw our dangerous position. George was pressing all of his weight onto me and my eyes were wide with fear. If I was frightened or hurt, then John's main concern was to hurt whoever was making me frightened or hurt—including any of his friends.

"Get the fuck off of her!" he shouted.

"Back off," George said before John had even taken a step into the room. That made him even angrier. He grabbed George's shoulder and pulled him off of me before he shoved him to the ground.

"You want me to back off?" he snarled. "After I see you nearly fucking me sister?" He punched him in the mouth and Paul ran to restrain him. "Don't you ever hurt her again. Don't touch her, don't look at her, don't breathe on her, don't even think about her, or I'll kill you."

"You sure talk a lot of shit, Lennon," George said venomously as he cupped his bleeding face. John shook Paul's arms off of him and just stared at George.

"She's only nineteen, you sick bastard!" he spat. "She's a kid and she's gone through way too much for you to be treating her that way. So you answer to me now. You treat me Rose with respect or I'll punch your bloody nose into your brain. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," he said tensely. George glanced at me apologetically. He took a step toward me, but John put his angrily shaking hand on George's chest.

"You need to stay the hell away from her, son," he growled. "Don't come near her or I won't be able to control myself. Stay back." He came over to me and held me still. I didn't realize that I was shaking until John steadied me. "Let's go get some air, love."

"Rose-," George started, but a sharp glare from John cut him off.

"No more," he said seriously. "Stay away." He pulled me out of the room and onto the back porch. "Rosie, breathe, love."

"I can't believe he would do that to me," I whispered. John pulled me into his chest and rocked back and forth. "Of all people, my George would try and do that?"

"All men are the same, Rose," he said seriously. "How many times do I have to tell you that? No matter who they are, they can hurt you." I wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him tightly.

"You're not the same," I said, trying to reassure myself. "You'll never hurt me." He rubbed my hair and kissed my cheek.

"That's right," he agreed. "I'll never hurt you. I'll always try to keep you safe. You believe me?"

"Of course."

"You alright, then?"

"Yeah." I took a cigarette from the pack in his pocket and shakily smoked it. He took one as well and rested his arm on my shoulder as we looked at the slow start of the day. It was chilly and it started raining, so we retreated back into the house. George wouldn't take his eyes off of me wherever I went and John didn't take his eyes off of George.

It was as if the two of them were choreographing their movements. If George shifted even a fraction of an inch, John would move just that amount to keep him from me. The tense, angry dance lasted throughout the day. When I wasn't around, I could hear them shouting curse words at each other.

That night, I tried my best to relax in lieu of all that had happened. Ringo sat with me on the back porch and let me vent to him and calm my nerves. He lent an understanding ear and promised that everything would work out.

When I was in my room, Paul came in and made me laugh about old times to take my mind off of everything. Though John insisted I have tea, Paul snuck me a flask full of scotch and mixed a bit in with a bottle of Coke. He kissed me goodnight and went off to bed.

John, being John, did not retire from his post at my door. He even took a pillow to rest on to prevent George from sneaking in.

However, that didn't stop him from coming in through the window.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello all! Quick update before I hit the sack because I got so many amazing reviews! This chapter is pretty crazy so let me know if you don't get a part or something. I hope you enjoy this one! Review! x**

* * *

Before I could speak, George sped over to the bed and clapped his hand over my mouth. I tried to claw it off but he was barely fazed. He looked into my eyes angrily until I stop fighting him.

"Listen to me, Rose," he whispered. "That wasn't me, you know it wasn't. I drank on an empty stomach yesterday after you went to sleep and I woke up like I was still drunk. I would never try to hurt you like that it my right mind. You know me."

"Get off," I said, my voice muffled by the heavy pressure of his hand. He held my face still with his other hand and forced me to look at him.

"Believe me. I love you. I always have and I always will. Please believe me." His hands moved from my face and to my arms so that he could kiss me. I tried to move away from him—I didn't love him anymore. He scared me.

"George, stop," I said strongly. "Get away! Get off of me!" My voice rose to a shriek and the door opened quickly. John furiously tackled George and punched him relentlessly.

"I swear on my fucking mother, if you touch her again _you're dead_," John screamed. He left George clutching his face and moaning in pain and pulled me out of the room. He shook his hand in pain as we went into the living room.

"You alright, John?" I asked quietly as Paul and Ringo woke up slowly.

"Am I alright?" He knelt in front of me and touched the tender red spots on my face. "Are _you _alright?"

"Yeah," I sighed. George came storming out and John stood up to defend me.

"Stay back," John warned.

"Oh, you'd like that wouldn't you?" George laughed bitterly. "You'd like to get me out of the way so you can have her all to yourself."

"George, shut up," Ringo said. George ignored him.

"You don't want her to trust anyone but you so you can just keep her forever!"

"John, what's he saying?" I asked skeptically. John's face was pale as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

"Tell her, John," George said amusedly. "Tell her how much you want to _protect _her and-,"

"George!" Paul shouted. Everything went silent. "Shut. The. _Fuck_. Up." George's face turned red quickly.

"If you want to protect her so badly, protect her from yourself," he hissed. He began to walk away, but I had become paranoid.

"Wait!" He turned slowly. "What do you mean?"

"Don't worry about it," John said, loudly trying to distract me. George smiled evilly.

"Do you know why John never wants a bloke to touch you?" he asked lowly. I casted a wary glance at John and shook my head. "It's because he wants you all to himself. He's _obsessed _with you." Paul suddenly ran across the room and crashed into George.

"I'll kill you," he snarled at him. George cowered away from him in fear. "Don't betray him like that. You're lying. You love her just like we all do. _You're _obsessed. _You're _ jealous. You are _pathetic_."

"I'm not lying-,"

"You are!" Paul shouted. "Stay the hell away from them. You don't deserve that girl."

George stared at Paul in shock as he got up and dusted himself off. He took his coat and stormed out of the house. Ringo retreated into the kitchen so it was only to three of us.

"John, is it true?" I said quickly and quietly. He didn't say anything—he just stared at George in anger. George had a smug look on his bruised face.

"Yes, John. Is it true?" George chuckled.

"You bastard," John whispered. "You bloody bastard."

"John!" I stepped away from him and, for the life of me; I couldn't see him the same way as I did before. "John, are you serious?"

"He's in love with you," George laughed. " He really is!"

"She's my fucking sister, you sick wanker," John said. He tried to make his voice strong, but it broke and shook.

"Ah, so you're in love with your sister!" George snickered. "Even better."

"John, is this a joke?" I asked quietly. He ran his hands through his hair and suddenly pushed John out of the room. "John?"

"No, it's not," he said hysterically. "I love you. I love you so much and I don't know when it happened, but I fell _in _love with you." When I looked at him, his eyes were filled with so much hope that I did not deserve. So much love that I couldn't return. And I was consumed with the utmost sorrow of not being sorry at all.

"You're not in love with me," I told him calmly.

"But I am-,"

"No, you're not. You're in love with someone else. You just want someone who can laugh with you like I do and who knows you like I do and who accepts you like I do. You just want someone to hold at night." His face transformed as I kept talking.

"Rose, please, I need you. Please," he said sadly.

"I'm saying this because it's all I can offer you. Don't tell me that you cried over me or that you're better for me than anyone else or that you want me or need me. Because all I have left is to tell you I'm sorry. And that's it."

"Rose," he sighed, his eyes tearing up.

"Stop. Don't cry." I pulled him into my arms and hugged him tightly, my own eyes becoming wet. "Don't cry." He hugged me around my waist and squeezed tightly. I could feel his quick, warm breath moving through my hair and on my neck. I put my hand in his soft hair and he buried his face in my shoulder. I convinced him that he didn't love me and that it would only hurt us if he did.

If I was honest with him, I, too, would've thrown caution to the wind. The only thing holding me back was the little bit of sanity I had left with it.

After John had composed himself, we went out to find Paul. Neither John nor I were ready to face George, for our tempers had not yet cooled. Paul was in a pub a few blocks away and we dragged him home and put him to bed. Ringo made an attempt at dinner but it was burned to a crisp, so I made salads. I couldn't look George in his eyes. He betrayed one of his best friends and I lost a lot of respect for him.

I didn't hate him, but whenever I saw him, I felt this sickness inside that rose to my throat and cut off any words that might have fallen from my mouth. A cold sweat broke out on the back on my neck, the exact place he used to tenderly hold when he pressed his lips to mine.

The way he broke my heart was so subtle, so unknowing, so unconventional, and so endearing, that I just didn't feel the least bit entitled to suffer.

Not even in silence.

I tried so hard to ignore him, to live without him, to _breathe_ without his constant presence in my mind. He hovered around me under John's watchful eye. I felt uncomfortable around him now—we were perfect strangers.

A few nights before the boys were scheduled to leave, they all went to have a drink. I finally got a moment of peace and solitude and I fell asleep without fear. They all came home drunk and George snuck into my bedroom.

"George!" I gasped quietly. He crushed his lips to mine; they were warm and soft as always.

"I would never hurt you," he whispered to me, even though I could feel my skin bruising beneath his strong, rough touch. "I didn't do that to you. You did it to yourself. You asked for it. No one in the world will love you as much as I do." He kissed me deeply. I gently pushed him away and led him out of my room. I was sure to lock the door and the window before I fell asleep again.

"_You asked for it."_ His words echoed in my ears the next morning while I tended to the marks on my neck and while the bruises seeped into my bones. My lungs became so heavy with the air he took away when he said those words.

"_No one in the world will love you as much as I do._" The words seemed like a challenge. I entertained the thought to accept—like an invitation to the rest of my life. The life that I truly deserved.


	10. Chapter 10

**Okay late night update! I have a quick request along with the chapter. On my profile, there is a poll in which you can vote for who you think Rose should end up with! I'm torn and I think the poll would help me make a decision. Well, without further adieu, enjoy and review!**

**p.s. i didnt mean to rhyme sorry**

* * *

It was Ringo who ultimately convinced me to move on from George. He told me that I couldn't keep doing things for people and forgiving people and have that count as love. I had to find someone who I loved unconditionally. Even if it meant saying goodbye to some people that I'd loved forever.

So it'd been a year since I'd last spoken to John or George. I knew that it was too easy for George to hurt me and John would always be miserable around me if he truly loved me the way he said he did. It was painful to leave them completely, but it had to be done.

They were the biggest band in the world now. Even though they were so famous, they were still my favorite people on Earth and I missed them terribly. It wasn't the fear of moving on without them, it was the fear of never going back to them. No one ever told me just how much it would cost to choose in life. They never told me that even though you can move on from certain things, it may in turn cost my heart.

The only person I regularly talked to was Paul. He called every other day if he could. He was coming back one night and rang me.

"Hello?" I answered. I could almost see Paul smiling.

"'Ello, miss. I'm looking for a little ninny named Rose. You wouldn't have happened to see her round, have you?" he asked jauntily.

"Don't believe I have, sir. I'll keep me eye out for the bird though," I grinned. He laughed lightly.

"How are you, love?"

"Smashing. You?"

"Smashing?" he scoffed. "What are you, some bloody London git?"

"Piss off," I snickered. "Anyway, how's Ringo? And, eh, John…and…"

"George?" he said flatly. "Fine. They've got themselves a bird. They're nice. Can't complain. They haven't talk about you since you got that new bloke."

Ah, my dearest Sullivan. We'd met about nine months ago. He was the most respectful man I'd ever met—even over my own father. He'd never laid a hand on me and I felt different about him. Different from every boyfriend I'd ever had. Even George. He moved from America to work in Liverpool. He confided that he had a daughter back home in Florida with his ex-girlfriend and since then, he'd learned how to treat a girl with love and respect.

"His name is Sully, Paul," I corrected calmly. "And you know it. You're just angry because he treats me right and you have nothing to complain about."

"Don't be daft, he's a tool," Paul protested. I heard the door unlock and I smiled.

"I've got to go, Paul. I'll see you soon!"

"Alright," he said hastily. "Love you."

"Love ya back." I hung up and ran to jump into my boyfriend's arms.

"Hi, sweetie," he said tiredly. He kissed my cheek and set me down. He worked as a business analyst in Southport, so he had quite a drive both ways every day. He tried to explain his job to me in detail many times but I could never understand what he actually did.

"How was work, love?" I asked as I made a very quick dinner. His eyes lit up.

"It was great. I had to evaluate the solution they chose for a new business opening in Preston through its design and construction to make sure that it met the business's needs. It was so interesting they way that the architecture of this new building almost completely reflects the southern Gothic style during-,"

"Sweetheart, I don't know what you're saying," I interrupted bluntly. He stood and grabbed my waist, gently pulling me toward him.

"Sorry, sweetie," he laughed. He kissed me sweetly and my whole body warmed up. We ate dinner and he pretended to be a food critic. He would taste his food, taste mine, feed me a bite, or swish a swallow of wine in his mouth fancifully. We were in stitches and before long we were practically asleep on our feet. When we went to bed, he suggested that we have lunch together tomorrow.

"That sounds like fun," I yawned, tucking myself under his arm. He kissed my forehead and just as we were drifting off, the phone rang loudly.

"I'll grab it," he groaned. He reached over and tiredly greeted: "Hello?" I closed my eyes and tried to listen to the conversation. "You're kidding me. Alright. Thanks. We'll be right there." He hung up and I looked at him curiously.

"What's the matter?" I asked. He exhaled deeply.

"Get up. Get dressed," he sighed. "We have to go to the police station."

"What? Why?"

"Your buddies, Paul and George, got into a fight with a guy at a bar and they called you to come get them."

"I didn't even know they were in town yet," I yawned again. He shrugged and handed me my coat.

"Let's go." He drove us to the station Paul and George were drunkenly sleeping, resting on each other's heads.

"Oh my God," I sighed. They were so embarrassing like that. As I talked to the officers, I was surprised to learn that Dan had approached them and provoked them by shoving Paul and throwing his drink in George's face. They retaliated quickly and soon Dan was lying unconscious on the ground. They were arrested while they were still furiously spitting curse words at him. The officers shook them awake and Paul hopped up and bounded over to me.

"Rosie, my darling," he slurred drunkenly. He only called me Rosie when he was plastered and thought we were teenagers again. "I missed you so, so, so much!" He glanced at Sully. "Who's this bloke?"

Sully wrapped one arm around my waist and offered the other to Paul. "Sullivan Braddock. I'm here to bail you out." Paul's demeanor changed immediately.

"Well, like I always said," he said cheerfully. "Rosie's friends are my friends!" He leaned on me heavily.

"Sully, you don't have to do that," I sighed. "I'll get them out."

"Sweetie," he said soothingly. "It's alright." I smiled at him as he went to the officer's desk to discuss their bail. George ambled over to Paul and me soon after, and I artfully avoided his eye contact.

"How the hell is he gonna get us out," George grumbled. I shot him a cold glare.

"He's a business analyst and he has a degree in law. He makes good money," I snapped.

"Oh, so you're only with him for the money. Is that it?" Though my temper flared, I chose to ignore him and focus on Sully. How dare he accuse me of using my boyfriend? I wish I could chalk it up to drunkenness, but the accusation seemed to come straight from the core. "Well?"

"No, George. That's not it," I said lowly. "I'm with him because he treats me like a princess and he takes care of and provides for me. He does what I ask him and he loves me unconditionally. No matter how long we're apart or how long we don't speak. _That's _why I'm with him." With each word I uttered, his face fell more, and I couldn't help but take slight satisfaction in that.

"Rose," Sully called. He motioned for me to join him. He told me that Dan would be arrested and tried for assault, criminal threatening, and (as delayed as it was) rape. My hands started to shake so I went to the bathroom while he finished the paperwork to bail the guys out.

I splashed water on my face and tried to slow my heartbeat down. I took a deep breath and looked in the mirror. I couldn't believe that after all this time, Dan was finally being punished for all the things he did. What he did ruined my life. I lost friends and wrecked relationships. However, everything that happened rewarded me with Sully. Could I really ask for more than that?

When I came back, Sully held Paul up with one hand and helped George stay balanced with the other. I took Paul's weight from him and kissed his cheek. He really was amazing. We hauled the two men to the car and got them settled in before we took off driving to Paul's flat. We quickly got them into the house. George tried to take my hand but I pulled it out of his quickly. I knew Sully saw, but he looked away as soon as he could. I instructed Paul to call me the next morning and we went back to the car.

Sully knew about the tumultuous nature of George's and my relationship, but he never brought it up. He could tell that it pained me.

"Listen, Sully," I sighed as we walked down the block to the car. "About me and George, it wasn't-,"

"You know," he interrupted. "Every Christmas, my family watches 'It's A Wonderful Life' on the television." I stared at him oddly. I realized that he didn't want to bring George up. He changed the subject quickly because he wanted to focus on us and on our future. "Maybe one day, you can come watch it with us too." For the first time, what's past was past. I took Sully's hand and we finally made our way home.


	11. Chapter 11

Hello all! I'm working on getting all of my stories updated this week, but no promises. It's getting really busy at school and I'm trying my best.

Enjoy and review!

* * *

The next day, Sully called from work and told us that he'd meet me in a café a few minutes away from the house because he had something to discuss. It was a nice day, so I walked instead of driving. When I arrived, I expected Sully to be late, but he was there early. He stood and smiled as he waved me over. He pulled my chair out and helped me in. After he gave me a peck on the cheek, he cleared his throat nervously.

"What is it?" I asked. He moved his head slightly and squinted his eyes.

"Did you know that you have little gold flecks in your eyes in the sun?" he asked suddenly. I shook my head.

"No, I didn't. Then again, I can't exactly see them," I reasoned.

"Touché," he nodded.

"So what are we here to discuss?"

He started to tidy up the table, nervously rearranging condiments and napkin holders and cups before I touched his hands.

"What's wrong?" I asked. He let out a deep breath.

"I've been offered a spot at a law firm," he said quietly. He tried to mask his pride, but I could see the glow in his eyes.

"That's great, love!" I said in glee. He smiled slightly and kissed my hand. "So what's the problem."

"The firm's in London. I'd have to move away from you." I blinked quickly and coughed.

"It's that far? Aren't there any other options?" I asked sadly. He looked down bashfully.

"Well," he muttered. "I was thinking maybe you could come along." I stared at him with shock. "I mean, it's just something to consider?"

"You'd actually want us to come with you?" I breathed out disbelievingly. "Why?"

"Why? Because I love you," he smiled. He laced his fingers through mine. "You know, maybe after we get settled in, we can, you know, maybe get married, find a big house…"

"You're serious?" I asked. He nodded quickly.

"Of course!" he answered immediately. "I just didn't know if you'd be okay with leaving Liverpool. Your family, and your house, and your brother…"

"My family lives in France, my house is replaceable, and John isn't really my brother," I denounced quickly. "I can leave it all behind in a heartbeat." He looked into my eyes with his light honey colored ones.

"You'd really move all the way to London for little old me?" he joked, batting his eyelashes like a teenage girl.

"Yeah. Except in London, they don't toss their rubbish. They turn it into television shows." He threw his head back, laughing like a little kid.

"So, we're going to do this?" he asked once more. "We're moving to London?"

"Guess so!" I laughed. He leaned across the table and kissed me sweetly. This new life seemed perfect. No, it _was _perfect.

I thought that it would be right for Sully to meet my parents. I hadn't spoken to them in months. I hadn't talked to my siblings in over a year. Finally, my offer to extend the olive branch was taken up and I convinced them to let us visit. I found myself extremely nervous to tell my parents about our plans for London. I knew it would be an even bigger explosion than when they found out about Dan.

While we rode the train to Paris, Sully confessed his fears of meeting my parents. Obviously, he said, they must've liked George more because they watched him grow up and knew that he wouldn't hurt me. On the other hand, he was a new man who they knew nothing about. I assured him that when they met him, they would love him.

We were met at the train station by my mother and younger brother and sister. My heart sank when I saw that my father had not joined them. My siblings ran to hug me and talk to me. Mum walked over slowly and wrapped me in a tight hug. I missed her so much without even realizing it.

I soon introduced Sully to my mother, Liam, and Juliette. My brother and sister took to him immediately and barraged him with questions about America. My mother, however, had and odd look on her face. It was nearly undetectable, but I was suspicious of it nonetheless.

My family lived a few miles outside of the city, so my mother had a driver come to get us. I answered Juliette's questions about her increasing interest in photography. As I told my sister about the purity of 8mm film, I glanced at Mum gazing at me with a slight smile playing at her lips.

The house that I saw when we pulled up was amazing. It was large, but not ostentatious. To be such a short way from the big city, it sat in a nearly country setting. There was a large yard in the back and a small one in the front. It was decorated modestly, yet gracefully.

Liam and Juliette jumped out and ran in right away. I saw my father standing at the door stoically. I blatantly ignored him as he stared at Sully and me. Sully jutted his chin out and touched my shoulder lightly.

"I'll be right back," he promised. I looked up in alarm as he strode over to my father and stuck his hand out. Dad looked him over rudely and eventually shook his hand. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but whatever Sully said made my dad laugh slightly. Sully loped back over to us and took our bags while and I found that I didn't have anything to do with my arms, so they just hung limply by my sides while my dad's arms were crossed defensively. My mother led Sully inside, chatting happily to him so it was only my dad and I left standing outside. I slowly walked up to my him and we faced each other silently.

"Hello, Dad," I said strongly. His cold glare from his suddenly cruel blue eyes made me sick to my stomach. Before I could utter another word, he turned sharply and marched into the house. I took a deep breath and followed after him.

The house was as beautiful on the inside as it was on the outside, if not more so. It was elegantly decorated with stunning paintings and some of my photographs that I had given to Mum. There was a picture of Mum, Dad, and me when I was about six or seven that I couldn't even remember taking. I was giving a cheesy smile and two of my teeth were missing, while they smiled happily behind me. My hair was in embarrassingly styled with my bangs nearly covering my eyes.

"Mum, when was this?" I asked as she came up beside me. She laughed softly and hugged me.

"Don't you remember that?" she said. "You were six and a half and John'd accidentally knocked your teeth out when you two were at the playground."

"I do remember now," I laughed. "And you tried to iron my hair, but I had a couple cowlicks that wouldn't go down."

"My God, your hair was the death of me for eighteen years," she sighed. I laughed again and leaned into her hug. I felt like a little girl for a moment. "Come on, let's have a talk."

My stomach was in knots as she led me into her and Dad's bedroom. She brushed a curl out of my eyes and put a hand on my dark hair while staring at me seriously.

"Sweetheart, share with me what you're feeling about Sully," she said slowly.

"I love him," I said immediately, surprising even myself. My heart turned painfully when she gave me a subtly scrutinizing glance. "In fact, Sully's getting a new job, so we're moving to London together." There. I finally told her. I tried to tell myself that I was relieved as her face changed and turned red, but relief doesn't feel like a chunk of lead in your heart. That's disappointment. "Mum, what is it?"

"Don't you want the chance to be young, Rose?" she finally exploded. "You're growing up to fast! You're starting a life before you've even lived one." We were silent for a long time. When she spoke again, it was in the thin, careful and above all _brave _voice of someone who has pulled themselves together despite overwhelming odds but might let go again at any moment. "Why can't you learn from my mistakes?"

I liked to think that I had a thick skin, but at that moment, my whole world screeched to a halt. _Mistakes,_ I thought. "So I was a mistake?" I asked angrily.

"Don't be daft, Rose," she finally snapped. "Of course you were. I was thirteen. You think I planned for you?"

My vision felt like it was on a tilt. Obviously I know that I wasn't planned, but my mother never told me that I was a mistake. As my mind reeled back through time, I could see how that was. It was a source of terror as I realized that I had often been invisible, insignificant, infinitesimal, and incompletely and minimally existent to my parents. My best memories were from the few times in my childhood when my parents were around.

"Excuse me," I choked out as stood up dizzily and walked out the room.

"Rose!" she called guiltily. I kept my brisk pace until I nearly crashed into my brother. He looked up at me with his sparkling green eyes.

"Hey, Rose!" he said excitedly. "I got a question for ya." He easily kept up with my quick gait.

"Shoot, kid."

"Why don't you and Mum and Dad like each other anymore? You never stayed with us before and we only see you sometimes."

"Um," I hesitated. "I guess you could say that we're not on the best of terms, but we still love each other, I think. Anyway, I wasn't really theirs. I belonged to Mimi, sort of."

"So who's you mum?"

"Mum is."

"So-,"

"Look, It's complicated, Lee. I'm sorry I don't really know how to explain it to you, but I just can't."

"It's okay, Rose," he said quietly. "Sorry Mum yelled at you like that. Other times she misses you a lot." My heart hurt at his comment but I kept a straight face. Sully walked up to us and recognized my distress. He touched my hand reassuringly before leading Liam off to talk to him and Juliette.

As I wandered around the unfamiliar house, I got the unsettling feeling that I was about to run into my father. My instincts served me correctly and we faced each other with increasing awkwardness. My father hadn't hugged me or even said a word to me since I arrived.

My father, like I, had decided not to be sensitive. We had grown thick skins around ourselves, just to avoid being hurt by anybody. But it is at great cost. When an insult does get thrown through the seemingly unbreakable wall we had built around ourselves, it was rebuilt and rarely crumbled ever again.

"Listen, Dad, I'm sorry," I finally blurted. I couldn't stand having him angry with me. "I didn't mean to keep it from you. It was just…it was so hard to bear being a disappointment. It was a hard time for me."

"And you think it wasn't hard for me?" he snapped. "It wasn't my day, Rose. It wasn't my day, or my week, or my month, or my year, or my _life_. Do you know how hard it is to live without your child?"

I thought to argue that he'd chosen to live without me, but I decided to keep my mouth shut.

"You don't know what I went through for you! And for you to just leave and hide something like this and throw your life away! It hurts, Rosaline. It really does."

"Daddy, I'm sorry," I said again. "I don't want to leave on bad terms, but if that's the way it must end then so be it." His face turned red and he glared at me.

"Then good luck, Rosaline. I hope you don't waste your life more than you already have. And I hope you don't make the same mistake I did. Good riddance." His face showed regret the second he finished his sentence. I ducked my head and rushed away from him. Two parents regretting my existence in the same hour. A new Poole record. My face dropped as I turned away from him quickly. "Wait just a minute, Rose!"

"Sully, can we go?" I said as I held back tears. He gave me a confused look but nodded immediately. Juliette and Liam jumped up in protest.

"But you just got here! We never get to see you anymore, Rosie!" Juliette cried as she hugged me tightly. Sully glanced at me as he collected our bags.

"Next time, Jules. I swear this time."

"Okay…"

"See you later, Lee. Be good," I instructed. He hugged me quickly and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

"Bye, Rose. Tell George I said 'hello'," he said, pointedly looking at Sully.

"Will do," I gulped nervously. "Tell Mum and Dad I said goodbye." We left quickly and made it across the street before I started crying. Sully hugged me and rubbed my back as the tears fell. From over his shoulder, I saw my parents approach the door with terrible regret etched on their faces. Their figures blurred as more tears saturated my eyes.

"Shh, it's alright, baby," he hummed, wiping my eyes with a handkerchief. "Don't cry, it's okay. Let's go home." He took my hand and I distractedly followed him. I tried to concentrate on the ride home, but all I could think of was the love I'd had as a little girl. Back when I was a child and before life removed all the innocence.

My father would lift me in the air and dance with my mother and me. Then he'd spin me around until I fell asleep and carry me upstairs to bed. Back then, I knew for sure that I was loved.

My mother would take me to museums and come back with clay or finger paint form her job and we'd try to replicate the paintings or sculptures we saw.

I couldn't believe that those were the only memories I had of them. None of them raising me like Mimi did. I don't know how I mistook those few beloved memories as my entire life. And hopefully, I never will again.


	12. Chapter 12

_**Please read!**_

**Hello all! Here's the latest update and sorry for the long wait. However, I have something to ask. How many of you would be interested in a story before the story-being that it will be about Rose and John's childhood, adolescence, high school years etc. It's an idea in progress but I'm getting a good vibe. If you could let me know if you'd like it, that'd be great. Either review or PM me, I'm down for either. **

**So just a recap: Review or PM for the story (yay or nay), vote on my profile, and the ever popular REVIEW for compliments, constructive criticism, etc. **

**Thanks and enjoy!**

* * *

"So what are you planning on doing today, honey?" Sully asked as he fixed his tie in the mirror. I made him a cup of hot black coffee and fixed a piece of his hair. It'd been about a month since our unfortunate visit with my parents and our plans for relocation were in rapid motion. I was finding myself ridden with trepidation and fear. John and the guys were not aware of me upcoming move and I doubted that they would approve. Even though their flats were in the city, I know that they did not think me safe with someone they had barely met.

"I might run to Mimi's," I mused. "I haven't talked to her in a while." Sully smiled and gave me a kiss.

"Have fun. Love you," he said. "See you tonight."

"Alright, love you too," I called back. The pone rang just as he stepped out of the door.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Hello, Rose," John greeted pleasantly. "I miss you."

"I miss you too. How is everyone? I haven't talked to you all in a while."

"We're all doing well," he said slowly. "I've met a girl."

"Need me to rough her up a bit?" I threatened. "You know I don't like some random bird off the street coming after _my _John."

"She's nice," he said. "You'll like her."

"What about George?" I said cautiously. John's end of the line was silent. "I see."

"He's certainly been asking about you," he mumbled.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Won't shut the fuck up anytime soon either."

"Stop it."

"Sorry. Anyway, how's me girl doing over there?" he asked eagerly.

"Pretty well. Sully's great too, thanks for asking," I said sarcastically. He cleared his throat, and grumbled.

"Just great," he muttered. "Tell him I said ' hello' I suppose."

"Will do," I smiled. "We're moving soon, you know."

"I'm very aware. I'll be there to welcome you to your new home. You're t selling the house, are you?"

"Wouldn't think of it. So when are you coming out so I can meet this girl of yours?" I asked. He laughed a bit.

"Soon, Rose. I promise. I'll talk to you later, alright?"

"Alright."

"Love you."

"Love you too. Bye John."

"Bye Rose." As I put the phone down, I glanced at the clock. It was a quarter to twelve. Just in time for tea with dearest Mimi.

"Oh!" she said. "Hello, Rosaline. What a surprise." She plucked my coat from my arms and hung it p primly in the small hall closet.

"Mimi, I'd like to talk to you about something," I started confidently. She raised her eyebrows at me. "It's about my parents."

"Oh, dear," she said nervously. "Come on, then. Let's fix you a cup of tea. Have a seat."

"Thanks." I sat in the old chair next to the kitchen table and leaned on my hand.

"Elbows off the table, Rosaline."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Sit up straight." I did as I was told—only a fool would disobey Mimi.

"Yes, ma'am." She sat across from me after she put the tea kettle on the stove.

"And how is your Sullivan?" she asked.

"Great, Mimi."

"That's good. He's a fine boy. He's good for you."

"Yes, Mimi, but I want to talk to you about my parents—,"

"Goodness, Rosaline! Have I taught you nothing about the art of conversation? Talk small first, then we'll move on."

"Alright." I went silent and she huffed immediately.

"What is it, dear?" she sighed.

"I'd like you to tell me how much my parents were really around." She shifted uncomfortably.

"You always went running to them," she said, somewhat ruefully. "No matter how many promises they broke or how many snubs they made, they were the center of your universe. I tried to keep you away from them because if they didn't show up when they promised, you'd just become this quiet, sad little girl and it seemed like the whole house was under a grey cloud. It was truly tragic, the power they held over your emotions."

"When _did _I see them, then?"

"Maybe twice every six months or so. They were rarely there, Rosaline. I found it so sad too because you were such a smart girl. You were moved up a year in school because you simply weren't challenged," she said proudly. "They barely cared. Of course, they were children themselves, but it still seemed so inconsiderate to you."

She nodded pointedly at my rapidly cooling cup of tea. I took an obligatory sip and set the cup back down.

"Why is it that I can only remember the good parts of being a kid?" I asked. She put her hand over mine and looked into my eyes softly.

"Do you think I would let you remember the bad memories, Rose?" she questioned gently. "You're as close to my flesh and blood as John is and as strict as you two thought I was, it was truly for your own good."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. Now what brought this all up then?" she asked. I felt angry tears rushing up to my eyes.

"I went to go visit them," I said thickly. "And they called me a mistake. First they condemned me for God knows how long and then they essentially deem me with the wonderful title of the bastard child that ruined their lives. What can I do, Mimi?"

"Live without trying to please them," she said almost immediately. "From the day you could walk and talk, every breath you took was to make them happy with you. Don't let them control you." I stared at her, shocked at this outburst. Mimi, the eternal disciplinarian was telling me to try not to please and respect my elders (read: my own parents), and to lie by my own rules.

"Alright," I said simply. "I will." We awkwardly sipped the rest of our tea and she patted her mouth delicately.

"When are you planning on making your move?" she asked quietly.

"Next week, actually."

"Hm. Make sure you and your boy come to supper before you leave. I'd like to see you off."

"Alright." We stood and she walked me to the door. "Thank you, Mimi." I hugged her tightly and I remembered nothing more comforting than one of her rare hugs and even more rarely returned hugs.

"Goodbye, Rosaline. Keep in touch, will you?"

"Of course."

I lounged around the house for the rest of the day and read about three books while Sully was away. Everything was packed up—we were even eating dinner on a box. He came in looking troubled and when I asked him what was wrong, he dropped the newspaper on our makeshift table.

"What's this, then?" I asked.

"Page six." I flipped the pages and looked curiously as the sorry. It was about the Beatles (as most usually were these days), but in particularly about George. The story was talking about his engagement to a model and an interview with him. He told the paper about me.

Line five: "Rose is in an insignificant corner of my mind—my fiancée need not worry about her."

Line eight: "I couldn't recall when she's ever been more than just a distraction to me. She was my friend's little sister. She just wanted to hang with the big kids. Can't hold it against her really."

Line twelve: "She doesn't matter—she never had and she never will."

I picked up the paper and threw it in the bin, but not before setting a match to it.

"He ruined me," I said lowly. "Every bit of trust I had left in me is gone with that paper." Sully hugged me tightly and I swear, even in his strong, warm arms, I felt cold and hateful. "He _lied_."

"I know."

"But," I said, suddenly having a revelation. "I don't care. I love you, Sullivan. And no matter how hard he tries to, he can never take that away from me. I have you."

"And I, you," he grinned. "Five more days and we're out of here and into our own house in London. We'll start fresh."

"Right." He beamed down at me and kissed me softly. I smiled up at him and figured out what was different about Sully from George. He looked at me like I was pretty, and he touched me like I was lovely.

But he kissed me like I was the most beautiful thing in the God damn world. And nothing could take that away.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hello all! I'm trying to update all of my stories this week if I can! Last week was my birthday and this week I have standardized testing so it may be an opportunity to update! Thanks for waiting so patiently and don't forget to review, vote, and most important, enjoy! xx**

* * *

Soon, our moving day came. I'd painstakingly packed all of John's and my precious mementos and some of John's things that he hadn't taken. I made sure that the fragile things were packed carefully into the truck parked in front of the house and generally oversaw the move. Sully tied a few things up at work and he arrived at dusk, just as the last few boxes were loaded into the truck.

"Ready?" he asked. The car was ready to go and the bags were packed. I glanced around my house and sighed. I didn't realize how many memories we were leaving behind until I had one foot out of the door. I know I was headed off toward a wonderful new life, but what kind of heart doesn't look back?

"Yeah." I pulled the door shut for the last time and took Sully's hand. As he led me to the car, I looked back and saw the comforting glow from the porch. From the house that I will always call home.

All the words that had come undone in that house, the late night confessions, the fights and the forgiveness, and all the love that had been spoken, were being left behind. Even though I was leaving, I knew the fire of my family's love still burned there inside.

Sully squeezed my hand softly and smiled sadly. I smiled back at him. He's all I had and all I needed. He held my love in his hands and I realized that I couldn't ask for anything better.

The drive was long. It took about four hours to drive to London, get lost, and find our new house. While we weren't in the heart of the city per say, we were in a relatively close subdivision. When we got there, half of our furniture was unloaded and John was waiting out front in his car. We both hopped out and embraced excitedly.

"Rose! I missed you so much!" he said excitedly. "And now you're here! It'll be just like old times." I held onto him tightly and inhaled his familiar, comforting scent.

"Yeah," I sighed. "Finally."

"You should come over soon," he smiled. He glanced over my shoulder at Sully getting our bags out of the car. "The both of you. I'd like you to meet my girl."

"Alright, John. Maybe tomorrow or the day after. I'll ring you." He nodded happily.

"Yeah. Sounds great." He and Sully nodded amicably at each other. "I've gotta go. Talk to you later, okay?"

"Alright." He kissed my cheek and hugged me. "Love you."

"Love you too, Rosie!" he called as he drove away. I grabbed a few of the bags from Sully and we walked into our new home. I was astounded. The house was beautiful. It had three floors, tall ceilings, and a beautiful master bedroom. There were three guest rooms, a study, and (my favorite) a personal library.

"Wow," I exhaled as I looked around. Sully smiled and kissed my cheek as I gazed around in awe.

"Like it?"

"Love it," I grinned. He grabbed my hand and led me to the patio where there was a decent sized yard. "Hey. There's room for a dog."

"Yeah, looks like it," he agreed. We smiled and he turned his head away as he yawned.

"Tired?"

"Exhausted," he groaned. Since the rooms weren't set up yet, we spread out a blanket on the floor and waited sleepily for the movers to finish unpacking our things. When they finished two hours later, we gratefully drifted off. We woke up the next afternoon with sore back and necks. Sully graciously rubbed my shoulders before announcing that his new boss was inviting us out for dinner.

"I have to run to the office first, but we'll leave at a quarter to eight, okay? Be ready." He kissed my cheek and hesitated. 'Do you think we did the right thing moving here? Are you happy?" he asked. I kissed him softly and smiled.

"I could be anywhere in the world and be happy as long as I'm with you." He grinned and sped off to his new job in the city. I unpacked a few boxes and ironed some clothes to wear for the night. I heard footsteps come down the hall and soon I saw Paul's smiling face.

"Hey, Rose!" he yelled, picking me up and swinging me around.

"Hi, Paul," I laughed. "What's going on?"

"Nothing. I missed you," he said. "I'm not the only one, either."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked. He took a deep breath.

"Well, I brought you a visitor," he said nervously. I peered around his shoulder and my jaw dropped. George was standing there unabashedly, staring at me as if he hadn't completely humiliated me in front of the entire press reading world.

"Rose, I'm here to apologize," George said before I could talk. "I shouldn't have treated you the way I did." I looked at him incredulously.

"How dare you? How dare you come here and pretend that everything will be alright with just an 'I'm sorry!" I exclaimed. "I lost all trust in you, George. All of it."

"Sorry if you feel that way. I'm not here to be friends. I'm here to make amends. Frankly, I don't give a shit if you forgive me. I'll know I did the right thing and that's all I care about," he said coldly. I stared into his deep brown eyes and I couldn't believe how cold they looked.

"You really don't understand how much I loved you, do you?" I asked with tears rushing up to my eyes. "I might as well have had you face tattooed onto the inside of my eyelids, considering you were the only thing I saw when I closed my eyes."

"Alright," he said. I searched his eyes for any sign of emotion.

"Do you always have to be so cold?" I said shakily. He finally snapped.

"Me? You left your lipstick stains on my heart like you used to leave your crumpled up sweater on my bed. You left your handwriting on my songs and in my books and I read your words more than I read the words printed on the page. You left memories in my head and I couldn't think like a normal person because you were the only thing I thought about," he yelled passionately.

"And you?" I snapped. "You just _left _me. Did it matter how? You left me betrayed and hurt and confused. I don't think I can ever look at you the same again, George." He looked down angrily.

"Just move on, Rose," he murmured before storming out. Paul hugged me tightly, resting his chin on my head.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let him come," he said quietly. I didn't respond. He simply stroked my hair and sung quietly to me.

"_My wild Irish Rose, the sweetest flower that grows,"_ he crooned. I smiled slightly. _"You may search everywhere, but none can compare with my wild Irish Rose!"_

I gave in and joined in quietly. "_My wild Irish Rose, thy dearest flower that grows, and someday for my sake she may let me take a bloom from my wild Irish Rose."_

"_My Roooooose, the bloom from my wild Irish Rose,"_ he finished dramatically. I laughed a little and hugged him back.

"I have to get ready to leave, Paul," I said. "I'll ring you later." He kissed my cheek.

"Alright, take care, love." He walked to his car and drove off quickly. Sully came home about a half of an hour later. We got dressed and he complimented how wonderfully my dress complimented my eyes. He put on my necklace and zipped up my dress for me and I fixed his tie carefully.

"You look beautiful," he smiled brilliantly. "As always." His charm was disarming, his smile blinding, and his positive attitude unshakable. He pressed his lips to mine and I don't even think he noticed how they trembled. If he did, I hoped that he would think it was because of him and not because of my nerves, still of edge from the confrontation.

"We should go," I said, glancing at the clock. He offered his arm to me and held the car door open. After he climbed in, we drove about fifteen minutes to the quaint restaurant. His new boss shook our hands and complimented me on how beautiful my name was. An odd compliment, but nice nonetheless.

We all had a wonderful evening. I immediately hit it off with his wife, who, as it turned out, had gone to my school. She was a year ahead of me, but apparently, we were friendly toward each other.

The night ended quickly. We said goodbye and Sully let me lean on him as I peeled off the high heels that I had foolishly chosen to wear. He held my hand as we walked back to the car.

"I love you," I said suddenly. "I love you a lot." He looked in my eyes, smiling bemusedly.

"Eh, you're okay, I guess," he responded nonchalantly. I nudged him and he chuckled. "I love you, too." We drove off in the opposite direction of our house.

"Where are we going?" I asked. He said nothing. "Sully, where are we going?"

"You'll see," he said slyly. We drove for ten minutes until we were at a huge fountain lit up for the night. We sat on the ledge and looked at the stars silently. "Rose, honey?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you so much and I don't know how I lived without you," he said. I looked down and he was on one knee.

"Sully…!"

"Let me finish, please," he begged. "I'm scared that you don't feel this way, but I want you, all of your, forever and always. If you'll have me, Rosaline Ophelia Poole, would you marry me?"

I was frozen. I didn't want to leave him like that, all vulnerable and frightened. I'd been there before with my heart in my hand. Should I tell him that I thought the sun and moon rose in his eyes? Should I reach out to him and whisper tender words that were soft and sweet into his all too willing to listen ears? Should I touch him with the gentleness I felt inside?

Or should I just tell him that I still loved George? Should I tell him that even though I loved him, the love I felt for George went deeper than anything I could describe? Should I break his heart like George did to mine?

I stared at the beautifully sparkling diamond ring sheltered in its velvet house. I was afraid he might think me unsure if he heard my voice tremble if I spoke, so I nodded slowly. What was I thinking? I loved him. I loved him more than my own heart. I fell into his lap and kissed his deeply. He slid the ring onto my hand and we held each other in a jumbled heap on the ground. I didn't think I could ever be happier.

It was only when we got home that the real trouble started.


End file.
